


Parallel

by Belkiney



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cum Marking, Dream visions, Hales are alive, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries/Death, Knotting, Mating Bond, Multi, Pining, Protective!Derek, Scent Marking, Werewolf Rituals, depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-22 02:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belkiney/pseuds/Belkiney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles had what every teenager wanted; a new job, good grades, and a drama free existence. So what if he coasted under the radar unnoticed by anyone but his best friend, Scott is all he needs anyway! He was going to make it through high school in one piece, but what was that line about best laid plans? Gangly aft agley wasn't even scratching the surface.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of abandoned another story of mine, (sorrynotsorry), and wrote this instead. It's my baby and I'm supes excited to be sharing it.
> 
> Special thank you to my betas Breanna, Kevin, and Sam who've edited through it with positivity<3
> 
>  **Edit:** I just added a bunch of tags! I'm sorry if I've turned anyone away but those characteristics fit really nicely into the plot for later chapters. (Also, sue me, but I like those elements of the TeenWolf Fandom) Love you guys!!

          The Imperial March, though one of Stiles’ favorite songs, was blaring abrasively at him from under his under his pillow. He shoved a hand under there trying to feel around for the damn thing. How his phone always managed to wedge itself into a hiding place first thing every morning escaped him.

He pulled it out to look at the harsh blue-white of the screen only to glare at it’s contents. Flashing at him in a cheery little pop up was “ **Obstreperous - noisily and stubbornly defiant** “. How wonderful. He shrugged the phone onto his bed side table planning to worry about that stupid application that Scott keeps downloading after another few hours of sleep. His best friend just had no appreciation for sleep. Stiles could function on one hour of sleep, but hated it. Maybe it was his own fault for staying up until the world was soft with the first rays of morning. Nah, besides it was Saturday.

The blanket was tucked under his chin and Stiles felt his body relax into the warmth of it when the March started up again. He swore under his breath fighting through the cocoon of blankets to grab at his phone.

            **Dont b stupid get up u have work in 2 hours.**  Stiles groaned loudly throwing himself back against his pillows. Work. The job Scott insisted that he get, something about expanding his horizons past chips and Halo. Today was his first day and it would look terrible if he didn’t show up. Not to mention watching the proud look on his father’s face would melt away if he simply didn’t go and Stiles couldn’t stand that. Damn.

Throwing his legs over the edge of the bed quick fingers typed out response.

          **I was already awake. Getting ready now actually. I’ll call you after so we can get linner.**

**liar linner?** His phone roused into another go of The March but Stiles tapped the screen quickly. You can only hear that song so much in twenty minutes.

**Yeah, you know, lunch and dinner? A meal generally served in between lunch and dinner time. I guess it could be supper though if you were talking to Tolkien. Oh! We need to find an excuse to go to elevensies.**

Three dots popped up signalling Scott was typing, then disappeared like he changed his mind on what to say. Instead a simple **whatevr man call me** was his answer. He quickly switched the phone to silent and forced himself toward the bathroom. It was definitely his own fault for agreeing to work at a place that opened at 7.

 

 

* * *

 

  


Stiles pulled into the open parking lot and veered behind the cafe where he’d been told employees could park. His Jeep rattled to a stop and gave a sound that sounded like a cough. This is why he needed this job, Stiles reminded himself trying to justify the ungodly time it was. His baby needed some TLC. But god it was early, the first signs of yellow light weren’t even cresting over the mountains yet and everything was cast in a constant purple-gray shadow.

          Walking around the the front where the door was propped open with a metal chair for staff he let his eyes wander over the rest of the vehicles. Most were Beacon Hills standard. Old, rusty, or beat up with a few newer models sprinkled in. He wasn’t expecting to see the sculpted cherry red perfection parked off to the side of the building. You don’t see a late ‘60s Mustang Fastback everyday and it gleamed, seriously gleamed, in the early morning light. The chrome accents easily reflected line down the cars smooth planes. Someone was driving around with porn on wheels. Stiles allowed himself to stare at it for a few seconds more his hand clenching subtly with the want to touch. Maybe the it was the owners car? Doubtful he didn’t think this place couldn’t turn over that much of a profit.

 

          Inside he immediately knew that it wasn’t in fact his boss’ car. This wasn’t his first time inside Bubba’s Bagels but this was the first time he’d seen the scenes of the whole operation. The scant few employees rushed around pulling bagels off of racks and loading them into the display cases, loading drinks into coolers and doing general prep work for the madness. Stiles’ felt nervous energy coil in his gut then because he’d seen this place busy and it was pure insanity. Bubba’s was cheap and the best place in a fifty mile radius for bagels so naturally everybody flocked here.

          Right as the first trickle of doubt and inadequacy trickled into Stiles a man came around the counter with a cheery smile. He was that dark shade of blond that was neither really blond or brown and his hair was a curly mess like he’d been spending more time running his hands through it then anything else. The apron wrapped around him was covered in flour and other kitchen smudges and when Stiles met his eyes there was only open welcomeness in the blue.

          “I’m Isaac, you’re the newbie,” the man looked pained for a second, “You’re name um.. Vu -”

          “BLAHDUHGEYBLA,” Stiles shouted realizing the disaster that was about to occur. Of course they’d know his real name he’d scrawled it impatiently on all of the applications, “Stiles. My name is Stiles.” His eyes might have been a little wide.

          The blond, Isaac, gave him a quick once over like he was questioning his sanity. Stiles was right there with him. Good way to start the day, screaming at people.

“Well, um, so today because its your first day we are just going to put you on cream cheese duty because it’s really simple.”

Stiles just nodded and followed Isaac behind the counter where he was shown the proper amount of spread, a lot, that got but on each bagel and how to work the toaster. Simple stuff. After nearly twenty minutes of being walked through the different kinds of bagels and spreads Isaac left him to worry over something in the back with a quick reminder that the place opened momentarily. If someone came in just to greet them and ask what they wanted while he waited for Isaac or Su. Su was a tiny asain women who marched around like everybody was an inconvenience to her. She hated everyone equally with the exception of Isaac who blew kisses at her when she marched by carrying baked goods.

Stiles reached into his counter full of cream cheeses to stir them trying to find something to do with his hands. His stomach grumbled painfully. Showing up to work on an empty stomach when you get to stare at bread all day was not a good idea.

The bell on the door tinkled softly causing Stiles to jerk up a touch too quickly. The spoon in his hand going skidding across the floor. He scrambled to grab it and dropped it into the bucket on the floor label “Fallen Spoons of War”. Knowing it happened at lot should have been less mortifying. It wasn’t.

Stiles felt the heat rise to his cheeks as he leveled himself with the customer. Clasping his hands firmly in front of him he grinned broadly and forced out a cheery hello. Naturally, she was standing there with an amused grin plastered across unfairly full lips that were painted the same shade of cherry red as the car outside. She was looking at him so intently Stiles wondered if she had x-ray vision and could see right through his flimsy white apron.

“Hi.” She offered simply closing the gap between the counter and the door in two easy strides. Her boots barely clicking against the hardwood floor despite the heavy looking leather and clasps.

“Erm.. Can I get you anything.”

“I’ve a standing order with Isaac. Are you the new kid they hired?” Like that was any kind of answer.

“Yeah. Today is my first day.”  She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Weird. Okay, maybe not it did smell amazing. Yeasty and warm like fresh baked dough so Stiles brushed it off as her really liking bagels. Now it was quiet and awkward, two things Stiles hated.

“Is that your car out there? It’s really awesome but must have cost a fortune.” He blurted out instantly praying that Isaac would come around the corner and save him. Wasn’t he only meant to be gone for a minute or two?

“Oh, that thing?” She said it like someone talking about an old bathrobe. It took Stiles a minute to realize the curve of her mouth meant she was teasing, “It’s makes my little brother die with jealousy. He’s got some plastic piece of crap.” Her eyes were still steadily trained on him. Creepy.

“-- Just put it somewhere. I don’t need it -- Oh! Hi, Laura!” Isaac looked sheepish and he glanced between the two.

          The woman, Laura, cocked her head to the side and shrugged moving over to standing in front of the cash register. Isaac was already busy pulled several massive brown bags of bagels and two huge tubs of cream cheese out of the fridge. Laura’s presence was tangible as she watched Isaac. Not intimidating or frightening but there was a strength to her that Stiles recognized now that she wasn’t crowding him making him feel awkward. Isaac didn’t seem bothered by it as he rang her up with his goofy grin.

Sliding her card across the counter Laura leaned in and whispered something to Isaac so softly Stiles couldn’t dream of hearing it. They both cast a glance at him. Just a microsecond of a look before they were back to normal. Handing the receipt over Isaac gave a little wave. She left quickly after waving over her shoulder and waving to both of them in turn. The two stood there in silence watching her head toward her car where two other people at suddenly sprung up. They weren’t there when Stiles eyeballed the car earlier but now a man with dark features was propped against the drivers side door like a model. The other, a girl who looked like a mini Laura, had the audacity to sit on the hood leaning her back against the windshield. The three got into the car and drove away leaving Stiles thinking they looked like a gang. The next time he saw Laura he was going to have to ask her where her T-Bird jacket and comb were hidden.

 

          Just as Stiles was about to turn and ask about it the bell on the door tinkled and a couple came through. He leveled Isaac with a look that he hoped looked serious instead of constipated. Isaac gast his eyes down but a smile pulled at his lips. That bastard. After that there wasn’t a break. People streamed endless through the front doors and that damn bell was going to have a Pavlov affect on him soon. It just never stopped tinkling and being happy. The press of customers never seemed to stop either. He got lost so frequently in the orders that Isaac had pushed him toward the cash register and taken his place at the cream cheese. The register was easier, all he had to do was push buttons and take money. It was so busy that Stiles couldn’t have been happier when he glanced at the clock to see that his day was over. Isaac waved him out, handling the now slow trickle of people with the ease of practice.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Aw, man! You didn’t bring me a bagel or anything!” Scott whined pitifully from his passenger seat. Stiles had swung by after work to pick him up for linner.

“We are going to get food you idiot why would I bring you food? That makes about as much sense as kosher ham.”

“Kosher - what?! I don’t even know what that means.” Scott threw his arms into the air in some grand gesture of exasperation. P-lease, he was an amatuer at dramatics and it made him look stupid enough that Stiles was laughing. Scott shoved roughly at his shoulder.

“I hate you. Whatever, was it a good day though? My first day at the vet I got puked on by like seven different cats so I know it wasn’t that horrible.”

Stiles shrugged turning his jeep onto the highway, carefully ignoring Scott’s whines of protest when he realized they weren’t just going to go to Taco Bell. If what they served at school was questionable Stiles didn’t even want to know what was actually in his bean burrito.

“The first customer of the day was weird. She stared at me for the longest time before picking up the biggest order of bagels I’ve ever seen.”

“Maybe she has a big family.”

“It was enough food to feed a pack of wolves so her family has got to be massive. At least sixteen people. Or maybe she just is desperately in love with bagels so it’s the only thing she eats.” Stiles was rambling now about how hard it would be to maintain her athletic physique if all she ate was bagels. Scott was dutifully pretending to listen while typing away on his scratched up blackberry. Probably that girl he’d been obsessing over sense school had started back up.

 

When they were finally seating inside The Roxy at one of the homey little booths surrounded by faded pictures of celebrities national and local with massive hamburgers sitting in front of them Scott grinned and cleared his throat purposefully. Stiles cocked an eyebrow between shoving curly fries into his mouth.

"There is a party tonight. A bonfire actually. Jackson Whitmore is putting it on like always.”

Yeah, and every year they weren’t invited. That bonfire was a massive celebration of how much money and popularity Jackson had. He used it as an excuse to show off that he was dating Lydia Martin who obliged by torturing Stiles with painfully short skirts. He adored Lydia, more than he ought to and she would remain the only female he’d hold out for. From the way Scott was looking at him Stiles was willing to bet he’d just said most of that outloud.

“This year we have an invite, my friend.”

“What, how? Who did you kill, Scott! I can’t be involved, my dad is the Sheriff!”

“Oh my god, Stiles, no! I guess Lydia invited Allison and said she could bring a few friends.”

“So, really we didn’t get an invite, but the girl you swoon over is taking pity on us.”

“Yeah, kinda.” Scott didn’t look any less excited as he bit off another massive chunk of his burger.

“Fine, when is it?” Because really, he wasn’t going to turn down the offer because just being there was enough to get people talking to you.

“Uh, we’d have to pick up Allison because she knows where it is but,” He looked outside where the sun was starting to dip below the mountains. Fall in Northern California means it got dark fast. ,”As soon as it gets dark.”

“So me picking you for lunch was an elaborate scheme to get me to play chauffeur for you and your Bonnie Lass?”

“No, man, I would have brought you along anyway!”

“Yeah, me and my jeep!” Stiles accused, pointing at Scott with a curly fry who only laughed and threw a pickle at his head.

 

An hour and one angry waitress later. Stiles, Scott and Allison were piled into his blue jeep and heading down Highway 5. They’d ran into Danny and few other people they knew from school at the gas station. It looked like nearly everyone was going to be there tonight. Stiles could imagine Jackson preening with delight. Lord knew that his head needed to get bigger.

Allison was straddling the middle seat leaning forward to rest her chin on Scott’s shoulder as the two of them kept up a running conversation. Normally talkative Stiles felt like the third wheel. He liked Allison but Scott always had a one track mind. The feeling of his best friend being somehow occupies elsewhere wasn’t like a hard rock in his chest. Nope. He didn’t feel that way at all.

“Stiles, do you even know where you are going?” Scott chided giving Allison a look like a disdainful parent.

“I just figured I’d follow the train of teenagers heading up the Preserve to illegally smoke and drink and hope we don’t pick up a cop along the way.” Stiles rolled his whole head with his eyes. How more people didn’t get caught he had no idea.

“Part of the Preserve is Hale property so unless they complain the cops won’t show up. And, Lydia said that they never come out this far anyway.” At that the three of them looked out of the windows to where they were bordered on either side but a thick sweep of trees. They created darkness and shadows where there wasn’t any and pressed against the shoulder of the road like they might run out and block the way home.

“That’s kind of spooky.” The car in front of them, Danny’s Subaru Forester, began to slow down it’s right blinker light flashing. It pulled off onto a dirt side road prompting Stiles to follow it before both came to a completely stop far enough off the road that someone driving by wouldn’t be able to see.  

Danny was coming toward them then, the drivers side of his door left open to illuminate the giggling girls sitting in the back and his boyfriend talking animatedly. He reached the side of the Jeep a wide, pleasant smile creeping across his face. Danny was always nice to everyone thus, everyone adored him. He was one of those people that was genuinely made of a heart of gold.

“We are going to go pretty slow. My subi can handle a lot but I don’t want to explain to my parents why I scratched it all up.” He patted the side of the Jeep and Stiles would have been offended if it wasn’t the truth. His Jeep was scratched all to hell in back without mentioning the giant dent he’s put in it with a lawn mower. That’s a different story though.

“No problem, we’ll follow along behind you.” Allison chirped before Stiles could get a word out. Gah, people and their volunteering of his baby.

          “Stay close it gets pretty thick.” Stiles only nodded at Danny’s retreating back and looked into the trees to his left.

          His heart stopped. Molten gold eyes were staring back at him. He couldn’t place the stare but it was so familiar. He scrambled in the front seat trying to get his seat belt off before plunging from the vehicle and into the night. Scott was saying something, confused as Stiles started to dive off the dirt road and into the trees. No more than six feet into the thicket he stumbled over a root and was quick to steady himself. Stiles jerked his head up quickly, too quickly and his world spun for a moment. He’d lost his orientation long enough for whatever it was to leave. No golden eyes were staring back him now and Stiles’ could have sworn he’d seen a flash of blue just as he was beginning to fall.

          He heart hammered in his chest now that the adrenaline of it was wearing off. Why had he run toward those eyes anyway? He wondered. This was obviously not very well thought out. Stiles turned to see Scott, Allison and Danny standing in the pool of light from his Jeep’s light watching him with wide confused eyes. Even the girls in the back of Danny’s car had settled down to stare at him balefully through the back windows. Way to go Stilinski. Didn’t think that one out did ya?

          “I just... I thought I saw something.” He called back in a way he hoped sounded casual as he walked back toward the little group.

          They didn’t stop standing dumbfounded into he had climbed back into the drivers seat without so much as a word of explanation. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel trying to control the rise of heat against his neck.

          “Are we going or not?”, Stiles was aiming for casual again but was pretty sure he was off by a mile or nine. The three shared a look and got back into the respective vehicles.

          Stiles was easing up the dirt road behind Danny before Scott broke.

          “What the fuck was that, dude? Have you lost your mind?” He nearly shouted. Allison squeaked behind them and Stiles wasn’t sure if it was being was the swearing or the shouting. She looked like she’d mind both.

          “I thought I saw something okay!”

          “So you ran out of the car towards it? How did that even compute?”

          “They were eyes! Gold eyes like.. I don’t know. Like an animals eyes but they were too high. Looking at me evenly from nearly the same height.”

          “Again, so you ran towards them?!” Now Scott really looked exasperated, his eyes too large just to be angry. He’s been scared. Shit. It had been a few months since his last panic attack which had been a mild one but that wouldn’t stop Scott from worrying.

          “Dude, I’m sorry. I just thought I saw something and it got the better of me. I had to know. Curiosity killed the Stiles.”, He shrugged so hard he felt his ear lobes touch his shoulders. Scott didn’t look happy but when Allison’s hand came up to entwine with his he deflated.

          Naturally, freaking out and running into the woods was not something healthy teenagers did. Or so said the general consensus. The story had been told to everyone by the time they were pulling to a stop in the circle of cars that surrounded another circle of makeshift wooden stumps and camping chairs with a massive bonfire of pallets in the middle. Greenburg had probably secured his invite when he’d promised to load as many pallets as he could get from his dad’s shop into the back of however many 4x4s. That idiot.

           Everyone was either asking what he’d seen and demanding details he didn’t have or making snide comments. The King of The Ball himself, Jackson, made a joke about the Moth Man loud enough that everyone around the bonfire laughed. A few clapped him on the shoulder teasingly. Stiles brushed it off as best as he could thrilled when Scott pushed a red plastic cup filled with beer into his hand.

          As the partiers descended into teenage drunkenness the story was eventually, if not temporarily, forgotten. Stiles wasn’t feeling in the mood to drink half torn between going to sit in his jeep and read the emergency book he kept in the glove box by phone light or hunt down Scott and Allison. The book would likely save him years of therapy.

          Unfortunately, the choice was made for Stiles at the sound of shrill scream. It echoed across the clearing followed by a moment of absolute silence. In their drunken state Stiles’ peers looked around at each other stupidly before another scream erupted breaking the silence like glass. Everyone was running. Fifty confused bodies pressing against each other trying to get away from the sound, but Stiles pushed through the crowd toward the sound. Suppressing the urge to yell as he saw several people who were in no condition to be driving climb behind the wheel of cars.

          The girl, a sound that high had to be a girl, was screaming again and figures hooded in shadow started to move along the tree line. Lightening quick they outpaced Stiles immediately over taking him as he ran toward the danger. This was becoming a habit. They were too far away to make out who, or what, they were except that the bodies around him at least looked human. He glanced to his right, his legs aching as acid burned through his muscles trying to keep up. Gold eyes glared back and he sucked in a deep breath that rattled his lungs painfully.

          Stiles had no idea what he was going to do as he got closer, the screams having dissipated to painful moans and whimpering. The people, if they were people, around him crouched down to surround one girl. She looked like she was in excruciating pain. She had to be. Stiles head swamp with nausea just looking at her. An arrow jutted out from the front of her shoulder, another had sunk into the tanned skin of her stomach. Blood was pouring out of the wounds in deep crimson rivulets and seeped into the clean gray of her sports bra. It sunk into the fabric staining in an awful brown color that make him wretch.

          Beyond the arrows her whole body was convulsing tightly into itself. Smoke rose from her body where she’d been splashed with something. Stiles thought it might be acid and started to move closer. The figured around him were ignoring him in favor of slowly moving closer themselves. Low growls and little sounds of what have been sadness and horror were escaping from the beings around him.

          A terrible thought dawned on Stiles as the closest thing, thing was a safe word, moved within touching distance.

          “No!” He yelled pushing forward against shocked shoulders and kneeling down directly by the girl. His vision went white around the edges. Being this close to the blood he could smell the irony tang of it and it made him sick. Thank god it was night time, in the sunlight that blood would be unbearably alive and bright.

          A sharp growl drew his against to the group around him and he gulped panic setting deep into chest and limbs. Human faces stared at him with open hostility shining through golden eyes and one pair of startling blue eyes. Now was not the time to congratulate himself on being right.

          What do you want?,” He sounded panicked, breathless as he moved to ghost his fingers of the arrows but the next growl stopped. It shook the girls chest enough that with his proximity Stiles felt it vibrate up his arms and down his spine. Her eyes glowered down at him in the same shade of molten gold as the rest.

          The gravity of what he just barreled into hit Stiles then as he frantically looked around for anybody that didn’t was intense alien eyes. Of course they wouldn’t be here, they had the intelligence to run away. No towards.

          He jerked toward the girl again and had to choke back a hysterical giggle, “Well, aren’t you guys going to help her?!” Stiles voice broke he so was terrified. Sue him, right?


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was it some cosmic law that things only went from bad to worse? It was certainly starting to feel like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, chapter two!!! This is officially over 30k and growing so I'm posting the second chapter earlier because I'm just overly excited.
> 
> Special thanks to Breanna, Kevin and Sam for reading it and being supportive. ALSO, Thanks so much to kawaiihitsuji for constantly listening to me gripe about Derek's pouty face.

 

        A familiar sound dragged him from the darkness until Stiles had enough of the The March and groped under the pillows trying to find the phone. Nothing. He stuck his hand under the sheets looking for it. Nothing. The offending song still blared and Stiles sat straight up in irritation. The damn thing must have fallen off the bed in the middle of the night. Or not. He looked around the room as the now all too familiar swirl of emotions cascaded into his body: fear, confusion, anxiety take your pick.

        Stiles forced his phone out of the pocket of his jeans, that he was thankfully still wearing, and clicked the screen to live. There, flashing like a little piece of shit was: **Otiose - serving no useful purpose; having no excuse for being.** Yep, that was exactly how he was feeling right now. He checked for a signal. Nothing. He had a moment of panic as the weight of what had happened settled against him. The people creature things had knocked him out with a quick, yet efficient blow to his head and has clearly dragged him here.

        The bed he was in didn’t seem sinister at least. The frame was made of heavy book stained so dark it was that black shade that could also be blue. Soft gray sheets, black pillow cases, and a deep purple comforter made the whole thing look like it had been pulled out of some high fashion interior design magazine. The room around the bed was sparse. Glass french doors that opened to a spacious walk in closet immediately across from the bed and two low black bookcases stacked with books under massive heavily draped windows. The drapes were a deep gray that blocked sunlight from entering the room keeping it perpetually twilight. In these conditions Stiles could have slept for hours.

        Options were looking a little slim right about now. He could try to get passed whatever guard they likely had between here and the door and sneak out quietly. Thats an immediate no go because this is Stiles not James Bond and he hurts himself getting out of bed sometimes. These people could simply be people with nifty eyes and were only looking out for his well being so he could just ask them to leave. Again not really an option. Finally, he could try to weasel his way to get a phone that works and call his dad. Yes, that was a good plan. Hell, they might just leave him somewhere once they know the father is the Sheriff. There was also the panic attack option, even now Stiles could feel it’s icey hold on him but he was determined to save that until later when he was safely back in his room and could break down privately.

        Stealing his nerves Stiles went to try the door fully expecting to wiggle the handle and it be locked. It wasn’t. Minus one for the kidnappers.  The hallway leading to the wide stairs was tasteful, little metal holders with candles sitting on them around what looked like hand painted family portraits. He didn’t spend more than a second looking around before he was lowering himself down the stairs. Each creak of the wood had him stopping, his breath held tight in his chest. He wasn’t even sure what he was expecting to happen if he got caught. He was definitely sure he didn’t want to find out.

        Down on the ground floor he stepped into a spacious living room complete with trinkets and nicknacks. The sofas, three of them each a different shade of brown with rustic looking blankets and pillows spilled across them, and a coffee table even completed the whole home thing. Yet there was no one around. The entire house just felt empty. Tension began to leak out of Stiles shoulder at the idea that he was completely alone. He walked slowly through the room careful not to touch anything or trip until he stood at the doorway. There was no way it would be unlocked and it wasn’t when Stiles tried to wiggle the handle, but with a flick of the deadbolt he pushed the door open easily.

        Stiles was more confused now than he was ten minutes ago. Were these kidnappers really about to just let him, the Sheriff’s son, walk straight out the house when he could tell people what he saw? Or, he stopped at the top step of the patio and looked down, what he thought he saw? Had they just been trying to protect him from whatever was out in the woods that had shot that girl with arrows? Nothing made sense but he descended the steps anyway and turned from the front of the house to  walk into the woods where the trees seemed the least thick.

“You should probably drive, your jeep is over there.”

        Stiles jumped and the sound that came out of his mouth couldn’t be described as anything but a shrill shriek. He turned quickly his foot caught in the leafs kicking up a cloud of dirt behind him. Smooth. The girl from the night before stood on the top of the steps where he had just been. She looked healthy. No gushing wounds or blood stained shirt. Just a simply pair of linen pants and too large shirt like she’d just rolled out of bed herself. The lines of her face were smooth with youth but set into hard lines like she was trying not to look angry when she was.

        “Who...”

        “That’s not the question you want to ask.” It was a sharp biting answer.

        “I... what...” He lifted his hand dumbly trying to protest but the girl just shook her head her high ponytail swaying.

        “Go home. Or don’t. I don’t care what you do. But you weren’t here.”, she barked clearly irritated.

        Stiles opened his mouth and closed it the press of adrenaline against his legs begging him to run. To get away quickly. His eyes darted over the area until his eyes landed on his jeep. One of them must have driven it here after they grabbed him. It was probably the only one left after everyone had ran off so they put two and two together.

        He walked over to the jeep briskly. His thighs protesting against his speed. Stiles certainly wasn’t running though, nope, not even a little bit as he yanked open the drivers side door annoyed when it stuck on old hinged. Sliding in he scrambled for the keys that were still in the ignition roughly turning them and bringing the engine to a roaring start. The girl was there one hand clamped down on the window sill where he’d left the windows rolled down. She reached into the Jeep and grabbed his left wrist firmly in her hand. Stiles tried to jerk away yet felt her squeeze tightly until the pressure against his bone was just this side of unbearable. This crazy chick was going to break his wrist if she didn’t stop.

        “I wanted to kill you. Save us all the trouble, but then they would have marched right up this hill waving their precious code and damn us all. Not to mention you’re off limits, can’t break someone else’s things. Bully for you.” Maintaining direct eye contact her hazel eyes flashed to golden and she pressed her fingers harder around his wrist until both of them heard the snap. Stiles didn’t try to hide the cry the pain as he slammed his free hand against the dashboard his fingers digging into the rough plastic surface.

        The moment she let down he pulled his broken wrist to his chest using his non crippled hand to push the Jeep into reserve and floor it out of there. Adrenaline was a great pain suppressant but it made him quick and jumpy. Putting it into drive he hit the gas hard sending a spray of dirt and rocks toward the house. He didn’t dare look anywhere but in his rearview mirror as he flew down the dirt road sparing glances at his path just to make sure he didn’t crash. He’d never been more grateful in his life to pull out of the dirt and onto the smooth pavement of 49N. This was an area he was comfortable with and the drive home would be easy. Slowing to a speed he could manage along with the growing aching of his wrist he white knuckled the steering wheel.

        In a blink that Mustang was coming around the corner. Cherry fucking red and glittering in the morning sunlight the woman, Laura or something, winked at him like he was funny. Stiles was a mess, his hair sticking everywhere looking both white with pain and flushed with panic. He probably did look funny so he attempted a happy smile that he was willing to bet looked as good as he felt. Watching Laura move past him his heart only bottomed out when her blinker lit up and she turned down the dirt road he’d just barreled down.

 

* * *

 

        Stiles couldn’t exactly tell you what order things happened next only that it all flew by so quickly he doubted if any of it was even real. No sooner had his keys touched the door to his house was the door flung wide and Stiles was being pulled into his father warm embrace. He cringed as his wrist was caught between the two of them. Something his father didn’t miss and pulled away to examine while demanding to know who had hurt him this.

        “Stiles, son, I was terrified. Where have you been? I thought that you were out there in the woods like that girl. We couldn’t find the Jeep.”

        “No dad, I’m fine. What girl?”

        “Were you attacked? Your wrist is broken! Who attacked you?”

        “Dad, I’m fine. What happened to the girl?!”

        The Sheriff pulled away his hands cupping Stiles’ shoulders at a distant to get a full look at him. Satisfied with his once over a tired sigh slipped out of him, “You know I can’t tell you.”

        “I’m going to find out anyway.”

        “I know,” His dad took his injury free wrist and began to pull him back down the steps toward his patrol car, “We found a girl, from the next town over. She was really ripped apart. The most savage animal attack I’ve ever seen.”

        “Animals?” Stiles stuttered out hoping that he came off curious. It wasn’t abnormal for him to be asking questions about a case.

        “Yeah I think, you didn’t see anything or hear anything when you were out in the woods last night did you?” His dad’s eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second but Stiles just shook his head and hoped the lie he was about to tell wasn’t protecting murderers.

        He was dragged to the hospital before anything else could be said. Scott was waiting looking like a lost puppy until he saw Stiles being pulled along by the Sheriff. He perked up like a puppy and ran immediately to Stiles’ side reaching out an arm to clasp him tightly around the shoulders. Scott felt hot and heavy against him and when Stiles tried to push him away with his free hand his best friend barely moved only stepping away when he realized that nurses were about to swarm. The nurses poked and prodded, resetting his wrist and apply a cast only after nervously consulting his dad who was sitting in the corner glowering. Sheriff Stilinski mode in full force.

        The nurses scrammed after that leaving Scott sitting on the little plastic bed next to him and his dad in the corner chair. He pulled out a notepad from his toolbelt of Justice, what Stiles had been calling it since he’d seen too much batman in the 4th grade, and leaned forward prepared to interrogate. The lie about his night poured out easier than Stiles had expected. Stiles noted that a few times his Dad’s fingers clenched around the pen as he relayed what happened. What didn’t happen actually. He said he’d gotten too drunk to drive and must of fallen as he stumbled around and trying to catch himself he put too much weight on his wrist which it was broke it. No need to cloud the issue with facts. His dad leveled with him and Stiles knew that his father knew he was lying, but if he just kept repeating it eventually it would be accepted like the truth.

        In truth, after his dad had driven Scott and him back to the house and begrudgingly left for work, he let himself feel the terror of the night as he recounted the truth of his night to Scott. It was scary how in less than twelve hours he’d been kidnapped, his wrist broken by some superhuman girl, and found out that those thing walk around everyday like everything is just fucking normal. It shook him to his core. It preoccupied his thought until he noticed that Scott had cut the tv off and was looking at him nervously.

        “What?”, Stiles ventured knowing that look on Scott’s face all too well and he wasn’t ready for another weight to be dropped on him.

        “Last night, when everyone was running around,” Scott began slowly taking a deep breath at every change as if he was bracing himself. Stiles just sat quietly waiting for his friend to tell him.

        “I was.. Uhh Allison and I were kinda messing around when we heard the screaming. I told her to stay where we were, because it was dark, and I went to check it out.”

        “Yes...”, Stiles’ voice was barely a whisper.

        “That girl or whatever was just screaming so I tried to get close, but then this huge group of people started moving toward it too and I got scared and turned to run back to Allison. I got lost and stumbled around for awhile. I guessed I ended up back in the clearing because the fire was still smoulder a little, ya know?” Scott was looking anywhere but at Stiles as if the pictures and things in his house were suddenly interesting, “Out of thin air this giant thing was running at me from the trees. I swear it had red eyes. Big glowing red eyes. It running straight for me howling the whole time and I just stood there like an idiot. And it uhh,” Scott’s fingers played at the hem of his shirt as slowed his talking to a stop. He looked at Stiles expectantly before giving up explaining all together and pulling the shirt over his head.

        Across Scott’s torso so a huge white bandage but it was clean like he’d put it on for a halloween costume as he started to pick at the medical tape pulling it away to reveal scars. Or what would eventually be scars. Stiles reached out a hand to trace along the oval shape hesitating only for Scott to nod him on.

        “What the...”

        “It bit me. Last night it was open and gnarly as hell. Blood everywhere but I woke up like an hour later with Allison freaking out above me and it had already started to heel over. Tender but like pink and closed like the first few days after you scrape your knee reel bad.” Leave it to Scott to relate it something that normal.

        “Scott, I can’t tell if you are stupid or lucky. A girl got killed last night near where we were having the bonfire.”

        “I know! I overheard your dad talking on the phone in the hospital. That is why I’m freaking out! What if what bit me killed her? I don’t even know how to handle this? I can barely talk to my girlfriend successfully!”

        “Speaking of, did you tell Allison?”

        “No, I mean what was I supposed to say? I just pulled my shirt over it and got into the car. She’d called her Dad to come get us. And man, that is one serious dude.”

        Stiles would grill him about meeting the parents later, “It’s almost healed what do you think it was?”

        “No idea, but this morning I can do things. Hear things too.”

        “What?” Stiles pulled away from touching his friend because it was dangerously close to a line he didn’t want to get close to. To keep his hands busy he pulled the down pillow next to him into his lap and began picking at the feathers that stuck out from it making it prickly.

        “I don’t know. Like this morning I could hear my mom singing in the shower from downstairs. With the tv on.”

        “That is just pervy.”

        “I wasn’t trying to listen in! I just heard it. In the hospital I almost got a headache because of all the beeping and that god awful smell.”

        “What smell?”

        “I don’t know, death? I guess. It was hella gross. Don’t they ever clean those hospitals?” The ridge of his nose crinkled as Scott remember the smell none too fondly.

        “Scott, there could be something seriously wrong. We need to get back to that hospital and take of blood. Run some tests. Something?!” Stiles nearly shouted. He was pacing now, up and down the strip of open floor between his coffee table and tv one hand pressed to his forehead.

        “But I feel fine. Great even. I wasn’t even tired after I ran to the hospital to see you.”

        “You ran to the hospital?”

        “Yeah. It’s only what, three miles?”

        “Thre-- Three miles! Scott you should at least be tired after that! Maybe whatever bit you has some kind of poison that forces your system to go into overdrive. It could bust your heart! Man, you have got to go to a hospital.”

        “I promise I will if I start to feel bad? I just don’t feel anything but stronger, like I’m better.”

        Stiles pulled back, incredulous. It was inconceivable that his best friend was just going to brush this off like it was nothing. His mother was great in September but come January - Stiles slammed the door on that train of thought before it got too far. That wasn’t going to happen again.

        “Three days! In three days if we haven’t figured out what bit you we are marching straight into that hospital.”

        “Man..”

        “Deal?!?”

        “Fine, deal.”

        It wasn’t long after that that Scott left to pick up his mom from work and head home. Stiles sat around for a while longers, taking a few more of his pain meds for his wrist, before trudging up stairs to his bedroom. He stripped down to his boxers, his new cast making his movement awkward and crawled into the cocoon of his blankets. In bed it took only a him closing his eyes to drift off to sleep. The events of the past few days crashed over him, exhausting.

* * *

 

        A dream. This had to be a dream despite how vivid and alive it felt. The colors weren’t right, everything was so sharp under the normally soft light of the full moon. Like his mind had put on glasses for the first time after years of going with untreated eyes. Lines were sharper and shadows deeper making everything stand out stark in contrast to the dark night.

        He was moving yet no so much walking like he wasn’t actually a physical being but an observer watching a show. They was moving down an unmarked path, weaving between a path expertly and passing them faster then he would have ever been able to if this weren’t a dream. They came to an abrupt stop, feet sliding in the leaves and mud as they gained traction. They glanced down at their feet as voiced began to get closer behind them. Turning to meet the people they walked with purpose, straight line of the shoulders and a dignified stride until they stood in a circle of peoples. Stiles was conscious of being apart of the person, his host, yet unattached as he moved separately to look each person as they came into focus.

        He recognized two of them but there was no fear, only a wave of warmth and safety flowing over him gently as the faces of Laura and mysterious arrow girl along with a few others looked at him. Easy smiles spread across their face. The unknown girl reached out to playfully push at the body of his host and they moved back a few feet, deep rumbling laughter coming from their mutual chest.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Their voice came, deep and savory but not the bass Stiles had been half expecting.

        “Oh, come on! Even mom said it was fine,” answered mystery girl carrying a whisper of teasing behind her words. Laura only stood next to her sentiently looking off to the left.

        A man’s voice came snarkily from the background. “Yes and Mother knows best,” he sounded slimy.

        “I know, but-” They were cut off by Laura’s stifled laugh.

        “Brother, we all felt it,” she paused giving them a sage look, “and we experienced it secondhand. I can’t imagine how raw it must have been.”

        “I’m jealous, he’s cute in a pasty kind of way.”

        “Oh shut the hell up, Peter. It’s a gift.” That sounded like Laura.

        They gave a little hum of agreement but Stiles could feel the insecurity rubbing against him. Was it his insecurity or his hosts? Starting to walk towards the direction they’d been heading the others turned to follow. With footsteps so silent all Stiles could hear was a distant drumming, a  gentle beat in the back of every thought. It’s rhythm so steady he forgot to pay attention to where they were going until a house materialized out of the darkness. They lept over the fence nimbly and walked up to the back porch. The sliding glass door was easy, they’d taken a step back to let an older man, presumably Peter, come forward and do something fancy that they couldn’t quite see with the lock. It slide open easily and Peter cast a shit eating grin at them.

        The group stepped inside easily and began to dig around. Careful to leave everything exactly where they found it the group gently touched pictures and moved around the lower floors. They stood there rooted to the stop at the bottom of  staircase, waiting. In his hosts stillness Stiles began to look around absently. Everything looked familiar yet so startlingly different in this high definition detail. Each grain of wood was visible under the paint that was a color he couldn’t quite name. Individual feathers poking out from an over stuffed pillow on the sofa to their right could easily be picked out. Stiles would have choked had he been part of a physical body. The walls, the sofa, the kitchen, even the little old table his father and him had breakfast at in the mornings filled his vision. He snapped around to look at everything as pure panic shot electricity through his brain. This was his house. These people were in his house. Dream and reality came so closely together that his chest was tightening and he couldn’t breathe.

        His hosts body was suddenly alert, tense and he heard a guttural sound that wasn’t even on the same spectrum as human slide out of their throat. Their body was pulled tight ready to attack. Stiles was struggling to gasp and force air into his lungs. Stiles vision was starting to change again, flashing between moments of completely blackness to glimpses of the group looking at them with confused, wary expressions. Mystery girl was standing a little too close for him to be comfortable now, why had he been so calm to start with?! She slowly extended a hand and Stiles screamed his mind and body only responding to the memory of her breaking his wrist.

* * *

 

        He was falling parachute less back into his own body. His own scream echoed in his ears as his eyes jerked open to look at the grainy texture of his ceiling. Tension coiled in every muscle as Stiles snatched his lacrosse stick from atop his gym bag and flung himself down the stairs two at a time. No one, nothing was down there but his shadow. Falling limply against the wall Stiles fumbled with the lacrosse stick to reach over and slap at the switch eventually managing to turn both fan and light on. The harsh glow burned his eyelids and the breeze from the fan was cooling the sweat that can pooled on his neck and back.

        His butt hit the floor duly and Stiles gingerly pulled at the front of his shirt sticky with sweat. He must have been physically reacting to his dream. Stiles knew whatever had happened wasn’t a dream and the thought made him shiver. His sleepy mind rolled over whether he’d just witnessed a break in through a robber’s eyes. The way the group had spoken didn’t feel right for a robbery, besides the fact that there would be no reason for any of them to steal things from his home. Stiles had been to their house and what they needed wasn’t money. Maybe a priest, but not money.

        His head dropped limply forward and he peaked from the corner of his eyes toward the back door not really wanting to see. The sliding glass door was standing wide open, flung wide like people had fled through it quickly. It should have set him on edge, at least frighten him a little, but it didn’t. Emotionally and physically exhausted there wasn’t energy left for Stiles to devote to feeling anything but tired.

        He struggled to his feet and closed the back door. Locking it and jamming the stick of wood his father set to the side of the door into the jam to stop it from sliding open. You’d have to break it to get in. Stiles doubted they’d have a problem breaking glass if they were wanted to come inside, but it eased the tight set of his shoulders enough that he was able to go back upstairs into his bedroom and crawl lamely into bed. He only got up twice after that. Once to check the front door. The other to go into his dad’s empty bedroom and get the spare handgun from the safe he shouldn’t know the combination to, he wasn’t going to be ripped to shreds that that girl in the woods tonight. No sir.  Hopefully there would be enough time to put it back before it’s absence was noted.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three Preview: It was Saturday again, exactly a week after his wrist had been broken in three places and his world had gone all crazy. And he still hadn’t managed to convince Scott, who was too busy kissing all over Allison, to go see a doctor. He’d been weird sense he was bitten. No bad weird, just he was somehow enhanced. Was that even a thing?
> 
>  
> 
> Yayayaya! Come visit me on my tumblr! [behindthesaltline](http://behindthesaltline.tumblr.com/)


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo:) Chapter three! This one took a little longer because I had to actually do research, blehhck, but it turned out the way I wanted! I was going to split it into two but I couldn't so its just a long one.
> 
> As always, special thank yous to my betas Kevin, Breanna, and Sam. I really appreciate all the word you put into keeping me straight and not all over the place.  
> ALSO! To everyone who has sent me asks/comments/anything I adore you. Seriously, they make my day when I get to respond.

**Odiferous - fragrant**. Stiles idly wondered how hard he would have to throw his phone against the wall for it to break. With his luck it would bounce back and hit him the head. He pulled himself up and fought with the knot of sheets and blankets for a minute. Giving up he ran his hands down his face harshly being sure to jab himself in the eye with his cast in the process. Sleep had come easily that night which he was grossly thankful for.

It was Saturday again, exactly a week after his wrist had been broken in three places and his world had gone all crazy. And he still hadn’t managed to convince Scott, who was too busy kissing all over Allison, to go see a doctor. He’d been weird sense he was bitten. No bad weird, just he was somehow enhanced. Was that even a thing? Stiles gesticulated to himself as he stared up at the ceiling frowning. Scott heard better, saw better, moved faster and was asthma free. Miraculous as it may be Stiles couldn’t get rid of the feeling there was something he was missing and it buzzed around him like a gnat.

Pushing Scott away for a moment he breathed deeply. He had to compartmentalize if he was going to get through today. He’d been hired on to work weekends at Bubba’s and already missed his second day of work ever so things weren’t starting out well. Getting abducted by glowing eyed freaked should be reason enough to miss work but he wasn’t expecting Isaac’s quick acceptance of his absence and cheerily made him swear he’d show up for work this morning. So he’d agreed refusing to let paranoia that me might see Laura ruin his work place enthusiasm.

 

Right, maybe he should have just called it quits on the job and stayed in bed. Rolling into the parking lot at the same god forsaken time he parked and walked to the front. Today there was no red Mustang but a sleek black Charger parked off to the side in the corner space. Just like the first time there was no one around he was guessing it was empty behind that heavily tinted glass. He mashed his teeth together and steeled his nerves. He was going to get through this shift and then figure out what the hell kind of alien was walking around his down.  They should take their scary super strength and mind meld business back to the moon and stay there.

Isaac was standing behind the counter patiently looking down at Su, nodding when it seemed appropriate during her long rant that was half in Chinese. Today he had a scarf tucked into his sweater and apron combo making Stiles wonder how he wasn’t about to stroke out from the heat. He waved in greeting at Stiles and pointed toward the cream cheese bins. Assuming it was now his job to fill them he slipped an apron over his Batman shirt and set to work during the half hour before they opened making sure each one was full enough to overflow if the cream cheese wasn’t so firm.

At 7:00 exactly the bell on the door bell swung open and Stiles looked up with his best fake smile ready to deal with Laura and whatever terror filled awkwardness was sure to ensue. In strode somebody completely different. This man was slightly taller than himself but that is where the similarities ended. Dark jeans and a deep green henley that was so tight it laid against every toned plane of his body, the leather jacket didn’t serve to hide anything either. His hair was inky black with stubble to match. He was tan, naturally not that fake orange tan that you see in a lot of people. The whole thing was made better, worse, by his eyes. They were the color of a deep forest lake, that crystal clear swirling green-blue that only really pure lakes get. Stiles was floored. He’d always walked the line of sexuality but this man was handsome. If his face didn’t seem drawn to look like a scowl he might have been downright breathtaking. Stiles had to remind himself that it was impolite to throw yourself wantonly at strangers in public.

“Can I help you?” He chirped quickly nearly bouncing over to stand at low counter. Can’t blame a stressed out and deprived teenager for being eager.

“I called in an order, but I’d like to order something to go with it.”

“Sure, what was the name on the order?,” Stiles beamed outwardly while his mind scrambled to remember where Isaac had shown him the call in orders were kept. Last weekend felt like an eternity ago.

“Hale.”

Stiles dived into the fridge behind him pretending that he did not infact just slip on the rubber mat underneath him. Sitting on the top shelf were three bags each with the same Hale written across in Isaac’s delicate script. Thank god something was going right. When he turned around Stiles swore he saw a faint smile on the man’s lips and him take a deep breath, he might of noticed the latter because he was looking obnoxiously at the man’s musculature as opposed to his face.

“Okay where there are those. You said you wanted something else?”

“Yeah,” he leaned back to look over the selection written in multicolored chalk above the counter giving Stiles a view of his neck, necks should not be that appealing, “parmesan with garden cream cheese and avocado?” He made it a question.

“Sure thing,” He rang him up for the items only getting mad at the cash register once. Stiles popped over to the station and popped the bread into the little infrared toaster. He worked in silence with the man watching him, but Stiles never felt uncomfortable like he normally would. The man had the presence of a brick house but there was a pull toward him that Stiles couldn’t ignore. Irrationally he wanted to please him. Wanted to be in the same space as this guy and it sent goose bumps down his arms. Beneath his want to reach out and touch, to be touched, was a warm tranquil feeling like slipping into a perfectly warmed bath.

The bagel popped out of the back of the toaster and Stiles jumped knocked from his headspace. He grabbed at it grimacing when it burnt the tips of his fingers. Quickly he smeared the spread and cut out thick chunks of the avocado, closing the whole thing like a sandwich he slid it into a white paper bag and held it out for the man to take. Mr. Hale struggled for a minute before awkward taking it from him their fingers lingering together for a brief touch. He grabbed the rest of his bags and retreated out of the front door the muscles in his back bunched visibly under the supple leather of his jacket.

The door closed and the cord of Stiles’ trance was cut leaving him feeling strangely hollow as everything he was worrying about crashed back over him. His body gave an involuntary shiver as he stared out the front window. A little cough let him know Isaac was standing behind him. One eye looked over his shoulder embarrassed he’d been caught making gooey eyes at a customer.

“So...”, he managed drawing little circles on the stainless worktop with one finger.

“I see you met Derek. He’s a regular too.” Isaac sounded like he was carefully picking each word. Stiles didn’t like that and immediately set out to figure out why.

“What do you know about him?” Light and conversational, points for Stiles

“Not much,” his shoulder lifted in a noncommittal shrug, evasive.

“If he’s a regular you’ve got to have talked to him.”

“He’s quiet. I mostly talk to his sister.”  Isaac blanched recovering quickly into an easy smile. Stiles saw it though, guess he wasn’t meant to know that.

“Who’s his sister,” he probed conversationally.

“Another regular.” Isaac was setting up the cash register more thoroughly now. Deliberately setting the tip jar on the counter and moving things around with minor adjustments.

“And her name is?”

“Cora,” it took Isaac a minute to respond to that one.

“I feel like that is a half truth. I’ll find out. Tall, dark and mysterious is just my type.” He meant it as a joke, but the way Isaac looked at him hopeful, secretive, and nervous all at the same time left him feeling guilty.

“You shouldn’t say that unless you mean it.”, Isaac offered gently pointedly not looking at Stiles.

It was hard to tell who was more grateful when customers started to stream through the front door making it impossible for them to have a conversation. Throngs of people didn’t stop Stiles from noticing each time Isaac looked at him thoughtfully. Each time he just assured himself that Isaac was watching him to make sure his wrist was okay and he was keeping up with the word. Yeah, that was it. Damn it, what had he gotten himself into.

He’d been stationed all day at the work counter trying to keep the orders and what he was making straight. A few times it became such a jumbled mess, he blamed it on the clunky wrist cast, that Su came out from the back to help it with quick, experienced hands though everything went smoother than it did a week ago. Stiles had never been so happy to be a fast learner in his life.

The crowd and slowed to a trickle while the the of them set to restocking and wiping off every surface they could get a hand on to. Stiles had the coolers below his station open and was halfway into one trying to reach the back when Isaac broke the not uncomfortable silence.

“I’m not trying to keep things from you.”

“Then why are you?”

“It’s not my place,”he dropped the dirty rang he was holding into a sanitizer bucket, ringing it out let another blast of bleach hit the air.

“What does that even mean? I’m scared and just want to know what’s going on around me. Did I put my family at risk by being stupid?”, Stiles hissed trying to scrub an unidentifiable sticky goo from the bottom of the fridge. Isaac was quiet for so long Stiles thought he could feel the gears of his head turning. Isaac’s morality and trust issues were not what he needed on top of everything else.

“No one is going to get hurt.”

“I don’t believe that,” the bleach from the sanitizer broke through the residue enough for him to pick it clean, Stiles continued, “Freaky alien people kidnapped me last week, one of whom broke my wrist for no apparent reason! Then I found out that Laura, who’d I’d only met once but creeped me the fuck out, is one of those aliens. My best friend gets bit by something impossibly huge. A creature that has already killed one person! Brutally. Like chest broken up and guts spilling out brutally. Oh yeah, and I magically mind meld dream walk, whatever, around in one of the creepy alien’s bodies.” Stiles sucked in a deep shuddering breath, it did sound real at all when said all together. Keep talking like this and Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up in a room with padded walls.

Isaac’s face was pulled into tight lines of genuine confusion and something Stiles couldn’t quite read. The door tinkled open and they both looked. Su came in carrying a box full of ingredients, neither of them moved to help her. Help her with something and you’ll never hear the end of how she thinks you think she is weak.

She gave a little half wave to Isaac who waited until she was just out of earshot to speak, “ I--”

“And, why am I telling you this?! I barely know you!!”, Stiles cut across him abruptly his voice nearing that hysterical whine that he loathes.

“Because you feel safe around me, but it isn’t my place to say.”

Stiles threw his hands into the air sprinkling himself with little droplets of dirty bleach water. He’s worry about the white speckles on his shirt later, “So you all but tell me you’re involved but can’t tell me anything? Fucking A,” Stiles gesticulated wildly his hands of blur of movement trying to convey how ridiculous this whole situation was, “can you tell me if they are human? They being Laura and Cora because I might need to be medicated.”

“Tomorrow night is a full moon.”, was his completely off topic reply. Stiles fought the urge to crawl across the floor and strangle him. Isaac’s was laughing softly to himself, his head shaking weakly making those dorky blond curls flop over his forehead. He might have been cute if Stiles’ mind didn’t click right over to Man of The Dark Henley every opportunity it got between alien PTSD and work.

 

Forty minutes saw Stiles finished cleaning his station, a purposefully tight lipped Isaac taking care of the occasional customer and filling out an order sheet, and on his way to Scott’s job so they could go practice. First line seemed irrelevant this weekend, but Scott had been eager beyond control at testing his new abilities.Stiles wasn’t sure what to label them so until Scott starting shooting webbing from his wrists they were just abilities, not superpowers.

The vet’s office where Scott worked made Stiles feel disgusting the moment he stepped over the threshold. There was a heaviness to the air that forced him away from the counter to stand near the front door awkwardly. Scott finally came from the back looking pinched. Obviously it wasn’t just Stiles feeling it. Knowing he wasn’t alone made everything a little more bearable right now. Deaton, Scott’s boss and the Beacon Hills vet, followed after Scott his expression so serene that Stiles pictures him as a monk. Deaton had always been like that though, wise and calm.  Scoot stood shifting his weight from one foot to the other staring intently at the half stable door that cut through the desk for employees.

“Are ya coming buddy?” Stiles clasped his hands together involuntarily. There was a moment when nobody moved, each of them just looking expectantly at the other before Deaton took pity. He moved around Scott and gently pushed up the wooden door. The repulsed sensation in Stiles snapped like a string and clearly had a similar effect on Scott who rushed out from the back careful not to touch either side of the counter.

 

They might have sprinting from the building and into the Jeep but they’d swear they were just eager to practice. Neither of them spoke a word until they spilled out onto the over look that had been their secret place for years, lacrosse forgotten in the back of Stiles’ Jeep.

“That was the weirdest day of work in my life.”

“Nope, no way. You didn’t have a vague alien coworker. I’ve decided he’s an alien. There is just no other way around it.”

“Isaac?!”, Scott stopped his stomped pacing long enough to round on Stiles incredulously.

“Yes! Isaac! He knows them Scott, he knows about them at the very least.”

“How?”

“If I knew I’d tell you but-”

“Well I think my boss does too, he watching me all day like I was going to freaking out and break something. I was so nervous. And the wooden doors? I can’t touch them.”

“What do you mean you can’t touch them?”, Stiles asked from the log where he’d fallen onto in a mass of limbs.

“I don’t know but I can’t get close. They feel gross, like I shouldn’t even be around them. Am I allergic to wood?! Oh man that is worse than being allergic to onions!”

“If that was the case you being allergic to wood would be the least of my problems, but I felt it too. I walked into that office I immediately wanted to leave.”

“Exactly, maybe Deaton is immune?”

“No, Scott, we’ve been in that office dozens of times and nothing happened. What changed?”

“I got bit and you got teen-napped?” Oh. Stiles stared at Scott as the threads started to connect inside his mind. They’d been so stupid, both clouded with too much confusion and fear to actually look at the facts.

“We need to go to my house right now. I have to look something up on my computer.”

“I can’t man. I’m meeting Allison.”

“How the hell were we supposed to practice if you were meeting Allison?”

Scott at the good manners to at least look ashamed, “Well, she was just going to meet us at the field, but we came here and I can’t just leave her.”

Stiles groaned and started to head back toward his Jeep knowing damn well that Scott would run after him.

“I really like this girl. I know you know that. So please? You’re not going to figure this all out overnight. Call me in the morning and I swear I’ll come over and we can sort through it.”

“Fine. What happened to bros before hos?” Scott’s face broke into a grin like Christmas morning. He was so easy to please. What was happening had really only served him well so Stiles doubted the non humanoids walking around the streets of Beacon Hills bothered Scott as much as it bothered him. He’d felt lost all week, maybe Scott didn’t. Something was missing not just information wise but from him and that empty spot made Stiles uneasy and jumpy.

“Just be careful okay? Isaac said, ‘The full moon is tomorrow’”, Stiles mocked his soft voice, “And it felt like a warning.”

 

He dropped Scott off into Allison’s eagerly waiting arms and hightailed back to his house. His dad was, thankfully, working a night shift so he didn’t have to navigate around anyone. Stiles went to his kitchen first, loading his arms full of chips and other snacks he marched back up his bedroom with a gallon of orange dangling precariously from his index finger.

Stiles berated himself as his computer clicked to life with the cheerful windows theme playing softly. He should have looked at the pieces as a whole. They weren’t random individual incidents but chunks of the same thing. What the big picture was he was clueless about but tonight he determined to get somewhere. Time passes differently when your nose deep in the blue light of a screen. He searched for hours. Regardless of what he looking into or where he started Stiles ended up at nearly the same location, but that was so beyond impossible it was laughable.

Werewolves don't exist. If they did someone would have found out by now. Stiles was refusing to press the I Believe button as he mulled over his researched. He clicked open a tab and stared at the picture of some ancient painting that had been scanned into a computer. The werewolf had an infant in one hand and it’s head was lifted toward the sky. Eyes a molten gold visible even through the shit scanning and faded paint. The heightened sense of hearing and smell, how hot Scott’s body temperature had been, how fast and strong he’d been recently. Oh lord, Stiles’ inner monologue was starting to sound like a shitty Twilight chapter but it explained everything. His mind to struggled to wrap around the concept unwilling to accept something so absurd.

There was a press of acceptance against his chest, it branched its way through his body slowly as his mind caught up to this new reality. Stiles had been expecting fear, prepared for it actually, but there was no fear. Realization, yeah. The same kind of realization when you walk into a surprise party. You knew, but you ignored it so thoroughly that you had convinced yourself it wasn’t possible.

If Stiles dreamed that night, he didn’t remember.

 

 

* * *

 

  
  


**Stiles! I need 2 talk to u!**

**Get up!**

**This is IMPORTANT ur a terrible friend if u dont answer**

**STILES!** His phone buzzed on the bedside table until Stiles couldn’t bare the noise. Who needs a full nights, days, rest anyway? Obviously not Stiles. He snatched the phone and blearily pounded out a reply.

**Pick me up now**

**In a bit. I just woke up.**

**Quickly man its important!!!**

**Can’t you just tell me?**

**No hurry up!**

Generally, Scott blowing up his phone at, he glanced at his clock and groaned. It was 6:04 on a Sunday morning. That had to be blasphemy somewhere, but two things occurred to him. One, he had to be at work in twenty minutes and two, what the hell was Scott even doing awake? He grabbed at his phone again. I can’t. I have work today. What is it?

**Aw fuck are you kiddin me? Shit pick me up as soon as ur off**

Stiles guessed it was just going to have to wait. He wanted this job. By the time he’d made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen pulling a shirt over his head as he went his dad was picking up his keys from a little wicker basket by the door. His lips were pressed together in a tight lip and the bags under his eyes screamed he’d been woken up early too.

“I thought you didn’t go in until later.”

“Another person is missing. A camping group called it in this morning. They said they heard howling.” The Sheriff shook his head, his brow furrowed, “but there aren’t wild wolves in California.”

“Yep. No wolves. Nothing like that at all. Nope.” If Stiles sounded strained his father didn’t notice. To used to Stiles to notice.

“Yeah. It’s strange... But! I’ll be working late. Give ya a call later if I’m at the station all night. Love ya, kid.” He hoisted his belt a little higher around his waist and went out to his patrol car.

Stiles didn’t let the himself breathe until he heard the engine kick to live and his dad pull out the driveway. If Laura and her furry friend were killing people they had to be stopped. Which ever one of them sunk fangs into Scott needed to be found and... punished? What exactly was he going to do if he figured out who bit Scott? It wasn’t like he could turn them into the police and tell the truth.

Work and the prospect of seeing one of the Hales come to pick up bagels, a grossly normal thing for them to be doing by the way, was sounding less and less appealing. Stiles straightened his shoulders. He was a Stilinski, his father was the Sheriff. He was not going to run upstairs and wrap himself in his blanket. He was going to go to work and put on a normal, happy act until he could figure out what to do next. No one had made any outright threats, recently at least. They didn’t even know he knew about them. It was going to be fine. Riiight.

 

 

* * *

 

 

At Bubba’s Stiles was surprised to find that Isaac wasn’t there. Him and Su would be managing the front of the store and since Isaac had requested the day off she’d asked if he could stay late. Stiles tried to be subtle about asking her about it. Su wasn’t much for chatter. Customers came and went steadily making the hours fly by. Only once did Stiles manage to get her to speak after blatantly asking Su where Isaac was. She eyed him suspiciously before responding that what he did was his own business. That conversation quickly ended.  

She’d kept him there until nearly four. Watching him mop the floor and wipe down all of the counter tops while she did prep work for the next day.

It was a miracle he had not fallen asleep at the wheel as he drove to Scott’s house. Right as he’d clocked off from work Stiles had sent a message to Scott letting him know he was on his way. Urged to go faster in the immediate reply which was odd enough to make Stiles test the speed limit. Scott was one of those people that took annoying long to respond if it wasn’t important enough.

He slowed, pulling to a stop in front of the McCall house. Stiles reached into the center console for his phone but he heard the front door bang open. Scott was swearing as he came toward the jeep, his entire body was rigid and he looked nervous. Skittish even.

“I can’t believe you picked work over me.”

“It wasn’t really much of a choice. Unless of course you're going to start paying for my company. I bet I’d look pretty enough in a dress to date.”

“Oh shut up and drive. The usual place”

“Your wish is my command, handsome.” Stiles wiggled his eyebrows at Scott who didn’t react beyond rolling his eyes. Scott just didn’t understand sarcasm well enough to realize that Stiles was funny.

The ride started out silently. Scott was putting off enough tension to choke on. He was jumping at every turn and gripping the suicide handle tight enough that his handprint was going to be permanent on the leather. He would crack and tell Stiles eventually but for now the awkward silence was killing him. He reached forward to play with the radio. It clicked to an obnoxious station where the DJ made terrible puns and played the Top 20 on repeat. Watered down bass drops and whiney vocals filled the Jeep. At least it pressed out the silence.

Just like he had in Stiles’ living room Scott switched off the radio. His arm moving in a quick jerk that looked unnatural.

“I can’t listen to that. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard and I’m freaking out as it is!”

What Stiles meant to say was “Tell me what is it thats bothering you. I’m here to listen.” when in actually what came out of his mouth was, “Yeah, because I hadn't noticed.” though there wasn’t any snark behind it.

“I can’t sit still. I feel like I’m on fire. Like my skin isn’t my skin. Everything is so much sharper. Unbearable so. Every sound is grating and when I smell something its so strong that I want to gag. What is happening to me?” Scotts voice cracked toward the end. Fear tends to do that.

“You’re a werewolf.”

Scott slammed his fit against the dashboard. A sudden outburst of anger that left a baseball sized dent where his hand his the plastic.

“Damn it, Sco--”

“I’m so sorry. Holy shit, how did I even.. I mean.. This isn’t the time for jokes!” Scott was scrambling for words to apologize and when it couldn’t find them settled on chastising. Stiles reached his hand over to run a finger along the ridged edge of the dent. That wasn’t going to be cheap, but how mad could he really be. It wasn’t the first, nor likely the last time his baby was going to take some damage.

“I was being serious, you dick.”

“That is by far the stupid fucking thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. And, I was there the day you asked Danny if you were attractive to gay men.”

“That is a serious concern of mine! And, I am being completely serious! Think about it, Scott,” Stiles jerked the Jeep into the shoulder where he parked near the head of trail. It was well worn and always made Stiles a little happy to see it. When the two were younger they used to beg the Sheriff to take them camping down this little path. Now they came here to get away from the noise of Beacon Hills. Stiles jumped out, shoved his keys into his pocket and started walking down the pack his hands moving around in front of him as he explained,

“You got bit by a giant thing and you swear you heard howling. That bite healed in like two days and after your side was all better you got these crazy abilities. You literally got what every sixteen year old boy asks for. Better everything! Not to mention you get all twitchy when Alison comes close to you. Don’t act like you don’t. I’ve been watching you all week! You had to leave the class twice just because she reached over to borrow your pencil.”

“She makes me lose control.”

“Eww TMI, man.” They were getting close to the clearing they liked to sit in now. Dusk settling around them with feathery softness.

“Not like that. Like my heart goes wild and something feels like it’s crawling under my skin. I can’t be around her for very long,” Scott’s face fell when he talked about her. That idiot was falling so hard he jumped without even thinking to check for a net.

“Exactly! Maybe being around her gets too excited and the wolf tries to come to service and howl or something. It’s not a perfect explanation, but it makes sense!”

“I’m not saying I’m turning into a werewolf, but why is this happening to me?! Nothing weird is happening to you right?!”  
Stiles bit his tongue, Scott still knew nothing about his dream-vision and Stiles wasn’t about to tell him. He felt like he shouldn’t mention it like seeing something through another person’s eyes, even a potentially fanged out serial killers, was somehow private.

Instead of stopping to sit on the logs Scott moved past Stiles to take the lead still yammering about how horrible his life was. Stiles doubted it could really be that terrible, all he had to learn was a little control and him and Allison could go right back to making out in between classes. They walked along the line where the trees went from sporadic to densely packed following a path Stiles thought his friend was making up as they went. He knew this part of the Preserve having run through the bushes and l but it smells like tangy copper this way.”

“Tangy copper is that even a scent? Can you smell gold because this is California and that would be dead useful.” Scott didn’t even bother to reply just kept marching forward his back settling in tense line. They kept walking as true darkness sank in around them. Stiles was stumbling over roots and trying to fight off thorns as they grabbed desperately at his jean though Scott was completely unhindered. He glided through the trees and skirted around the plants easily. It was utterly unfair.

"Can you slow down? Not all of us has big wolf eyes to help us see in the dark.”

Scott stopped abruptly. Stiles had to quickly sidestep so he didn’t crash into his friends back only jostled against his shoulder a little. Tangy copper was the best way to describe the scent as he hit it like a brick. If Scott’s hand hadn’t shot out to stop him he would have been standing in it.  A hand jerked up to cover his mouth and surpass the gag that was building in his throat.

Eerily pale in the moonlight that filtered through the clouds her skin was visible through the tatters of what might have been overalls and a t-shirt.She was in two pieces and chunks were missing from those pieces. A third of her side was missing leaving her stomach ripped out and splayed in the leaves. What used to be legs and a pelvic were a few feet away spreadeagle in the grass. A lake of blood dried enough to shine tacky in what little like they had reached from her torn apart body to where the two of them were standing. Stiles was briefly glad that she wasn’t on a freshly cut lawn, the thick growth was hiding most of the smaller bits. Meat, this girl had been torn apart like meat and it was dehumanizing to the extreme.

The clouds were starting to part casting more light onto the body. Stiles turned away quickly not wanting to see more. He really didn’t want to see the way Scott’s eyes were verging on gold while he stared at the body with a desperate expression

“Call your Dad.” Scotts voice came out rough, a barely concealed growl, and he was perfectly, inhumanly still.

Stiles was already on it, his hand fumbling awkwardly to pull the phone from his pocket. He was backing away slowly trying to type in the number when his eyes betrayed him and snapped up to look at Scott. He hesitated on pressing call. Just a second and Scott was on him.

Scott crashed into Stiles using the momentum to knock Stiles off his feet and into the dirt sending his phone flying into the woods. Concrete firm hands pinned his shoulders to the ground as sharp pointed started to cut through his shirt and pierce the skin. Claws; his mind supplied lamely. His heart hammered in his chest as wide eyes stared panic stricken the beastial face of his friend. Scott’s face was overcome with fur and had sunken into deep wolfish features only enhancing the terrifyingly gold color of his eyes.

A scream curled in Stiles’ throat as he thrashed weakly trying to free himself from Scott’s iron grip. Scott’s mouth opened wide, wider than was possible revealing massive fangs few easily two or three inches long and howled in triumph. Before Stiles could scream another howl answered Scott’s. It was close, just off to Stiles’ left. Scott, or WereScott, stopped his assault and turned to look in the direction of the howl.

Two more werewolfs emerged from the thick line of trees. They inched forward growling and fanged jaws snapping at empty air. Stiles was trying to push at the ground with his hands but he was still pinned under Scott’s weight. There was no escaping now, all he could do was twist uselessly in the mud and watch.

The others got closer stepping from the shadows and into the silvery beams of light. The closest was smaller than Scott her fur a deep brown that was probably lighter in sunlight and was walking half on two legs and half on four like she couldn’t decide how much of a wolf she wanted to be tonight. It contrasted with the pale dress that was wrapped around her wolfed out body. The other one, hanging back by the line of trees was massive. Mostly human his arms, neck, and chest crept sleek black fur that dipped into a gray tank top and jeans. He wasn’t looking at Scott he was staring directly at Stile with eyes that were fiery blue.

Recognition coursed through Stiles than and he struggled even harder against Scott who was growling deeply and snarling respectfully at him and the shewolf. He couldn’t make up which was more important, lunch or fighting off the couple who might be trying to steal his lunch. Priorities. Scott’s grip loosened on Stiles as he turned to crawl toward the woman his arms and legs working in a way that was distinctly animalistic. The moment Stiles had enough freedom to wiggle to his feet he looked between the three. Derek seemed to realize what he was going to go and took a step forward and shook his head a single tight jerk, but Stiles had already made up his mind.

He turned and ran. One of the three howled in rage, he thought it was Scott. His legs pumped as hard as they could against the bushes ignoring the thorns and briars as they snagged as his jeans slowing him down. Damn it all to hell, this was not how he wanted to die. This wasn’t even how he wanted to spend a Sunday night. He heard them behind him as he ran. Sharp panting and the crunch of plants underneath faster, heavier bodies. Something strong collided with something solid followed by the sound of a struggle. Stiles heard a pained whine the slick sound of fleshing being ripped.

The struggle faded into the background eventually overcome by the frantic pace of his heart. His muscle were starting to protest as acid burned through his calfs. He was a sprinter not a distance runner but he was going to thank Coach for insisting on track if he made it out of this mess alive. Eventually there was nothing but the sounds of the forest behind him and he slowed to a steady jog. His chest cleaved with the force it took him to suck in a breath making black spots flash across his vision.

He jogged until his knees shook and he was more thoroughly lost than he’d ever been before. He had no idea how far he’d run or in which direction. Wolves could track pray for miles. Peachy. There was a steady tree to his left and Stiles crossed his arms to lean against it trying to listen past his pulse pounding away like a snare. Be still my fragile heart he thought with a hysterical laugh. No noise wolfy noises came from anywhere. He was completely alone and now that the adrenaline was starting to flush out his muscles Stiles was exhausted. His body felt heavy and sore.

He flopped over, eyes closed trying to hear, so that his back was flush against the unforgiving tree bark. After a while, Stiles couldn’t tell you how long, he opened his eyes and immediately wished he hadn’t.

“Don’t eat me.”, it fell out of his mouth embarrassingly fast. Leave it to Stiles to stick his foot in his mouth for his final act. Derek Hale stood about four feet away completely human except for his eyes, a blue Stiles wasn’t going to forget, ever. One eyebrow was raised high and his mouth set into his permanent scowl. He was wearing the same tank top and basket ball shorts though this time smattered with droplets of blood. Stiles shouldn’t have wanted to reach out a touch him. To run his hands along the sharp angle of that jaw, but he did.

Derek’s jaw clenched tightly and he balled his hands into fists at his side. Stiles was remarkably unafraid of Derek like this when he could see the human side of him. He was exhausted and terrified of what happened to Scott and the woman, but every time his mind tried to process the man in front of him he met nothing but the calm pool of tranquility from before.

Derek inhaled deeply his whole body shivering with the whatever scent was on the air. He relaxed, fractionally, and started to moved toward Stiles. He didn’t stop, instead moving just enough to walk past Stiles and into the darkness being very careful not to let the line of their shoulders touch. The space between them was small enough that it send twinches of electricity from his shoulder down his arm.  Warming him from the inside out. Stiles jumped, his mind and body completely fried.

“Follow me. They want to see you.” Derek had turned back to look at Stiles from where he’d stopped. Stiles could barely make him out in the dim, though he didn’t doubt Derek could see him clear as day.

Derek waited as Stiles felt the mounting pressure of eyes on him. What was he going to do? Stand here and shake or fling himself at that toned back? The answer was neither. He numbly pushed himself from the tree and went to follow Derek.

 

If Stiles hadn’t just witnessed Derek wolf out watching him move through the forest would have told him he wasn’t human. At least not completely. Derek wove in and out of the trees artfully. Nimbly moving around stumps and roots that tangled around Stiles’ legs, tripping him. Those times when he fell Derek would stop and look back. His face twisted in the pained concentrated expression with his fists balled tightly at his side. Stiles wasn’t sure what to make of it. Thinking originally that Derek was trying to hold back the transformation, but that answer didn’t seem right.

Maybe Stiles would have tripped less if his pace wasn’t constantly changing. He’d jog for a few minutes trying to gain on Derek’s long strides then fall back into a slow dragging of his feet when he realized he’d caught up to the point of being able to reach out and touch. The urge to rub along Derek’s bare arms was too strong when he was that close. That was scary in its own way. Not that the bloody shirt and possible murderer element wasn’t terrifying on its own. Nope, Stiles had to be overwhelmingly attracted to someone who might be slaughtering humans in his spare time. Oh good.

The walk was too fast for him to really sort through anything. They onto the shoulder of the highway a little ways off from where his Jeep was tucked into a cove of trees. From here Stiles could see light bouncing of his metallic bumper. Seeing it was startlingly normal and put into perspective how crazy his night suddenly was. After all he did just follow a blood covered, constipated werewolf through a dark forest after his best friend tried to eat him.

Laura and, completely uninjured, Scott stepped out of the woods as they got closer. Laura had one hand on Scott’s bicep not tight but she held him with purpose. Neither had fangs or glowing eyes. Stiles’ heart leapt into his mouth and seeing Scott even if his friend looked drained. He was alive. The night immediately didn’t seem so terrible.

“Hey boys, have fun out there in the dark?”, She made a point of wiggling an eyebrow at Derek. People shouldn’t be able to make jokes after seeing a corpse, even vague jokes that hinted at a deeper meaning. Stiles would worry about her choice of words later.

“What did you do to Scott?” Stiles rushed forward to them, one hand reaching out to hold against Scott’s chest.

“Nothing that wasn’t necessary. The moon was too strong and I forced control over him. He’s disoriented, but give him a little bit and he should be right as rain.” Stiles believed her. She had no reason to lie him and Scott were trapped and defenseless. There was another question cocked and loaded, he wasn’t going to ask but;

“Why did you kill that girl? And the other one two weeks ago?”, Stiles spurted. He sounded braver than he felt. Three to one could rip him apart. Two might voluntarily.

Laura threw back her head and barked with laughter, “We didn’t kill them. A beasty did, but it wasn’t us. We were trying to hunt it when you two stumbled onto the scene.” She gave Scott a little shake as if emphasizing her point. He grunted, his eyes glazed and tired.

“So it’s true?”

“What’s true?” She was being coy, careful not to expressly say anything. Letting Stiles know the truth in what he’d seen without recognizing it.

Derek was crowding him then gently using the mass of his body to guide Stiles toward his jeep. He relaxed immediately allowing himself to be led before his mind provided a reasonable argument. Whatever was making him submit needed to stop.

“No!”, bit out Stiles stamping one foot firmly into the ground and turning so that he was facing Derek. His eyes met Derek’s chin so he barely had to lift his chin to look him squarely in the face. Stiles used both hands to firmly shove at the broad chest, ignoring the awkward contact of the cast.  It felt like trying to push against a brick wall, Derek let himself be moved backwards. Both of his large hands came up as if to grab Stiles’ biceps. He thought better of it only allowing his fingertips to run along bare skin and down to the cast. Stiles shivered, the electricity was stronger this time. Little snaps of it cracking against pulse points as it worked through his veins.

“No?” Derek’s voice was low but he was taking another step back. Stiles didn’t bother to answer. He wasn’t sure he was meant to.

“Doth mother know you breaketh her rules?” Laura teased. Derek took another step back, paused for a second then proceeded to let himself into the driver’s side of the Jeep. Stiles cracked a wry smile in Laura’s direction. She winked and there was warmth in it. Perhaps he wasn’t going to die tonight. She made a grand gesture toward the Jeep. The three of them crawled into it with Laura in the back with Scott held tight against her side drifting slowly back to awareness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four Preview: Immediately a woman came through the front door and down the steps like she’d just heard a friend arrive for dinner. No rush to it just a gentle glide that continued across the lawn. Again the small crowd parted easily each person dipping their head down or to the side as she passed. Stiles was aware that they were putting on a show of sorts for his benefit. Or the show was about his reaction, he didn’t like to think about being watched by this many fanged folk. The numbers game was wasted because he was already aware of his mortality even if the fear had subsided to tight coil in his gut.
> 
> You can find me on my tumblr here!


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regardless of what anyone says, it's easier to believe in the monsters you see than the monsters you don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is back to the regular pacing of chapters! This one took me a really long time, just trying to keep the characters genuine. I am happy with the way it turned out so enjoy:))
> 
> Shout out to my girl, [Breanna](http://thvnderthighs.tumblr.com/), who has read about 15 versions of this chapter and helped me piece together what I wanted to say.

        When Laura had made the crack about their mother Stiles had thought it was one hundred percent facetious. Now that they were pulling up a long gravel driveway where a small group was waiting he wasn’t so sure. The ride at been tight, anxious. The shock of seeing the mutilated body seeping into anger. If these people were killing innocent campers they needed to be stopped. Even if Stiles doubted he could directly contact the police they needed to stopped somehow. He thought of the girl who’d been shot with arrows, obviously there was another force at work. Someone, maybe even a group, who knew what they were. If Stiles could get to them, tell them what he saw they could stop more people for dying.  
        The group milling around the front of the house was rigid with tension but parted easily around his car as Derek pulled to a stop in nearly the same spot the last time he visited the Hale House. Well, if you counted being kidnapped and having your arm broken as visiting. Stiles seethed, for harboring this kind of secret they were sure being obvious. If they thought he was going to keep quiet forever they’d be wrong. Everyone was watching them as they climbed out, a few pairs of eyes reflecting gold in the night. Stiles didn’t pretend to understand the show of force.  
        Immediately a woman came through the front door and down the steps easily. She walked with authority. No rush to it, a gentle glide that continued across the lawn. The small crowd parted easily each person dipping their head down or to the side as she passed, some of them looked vaguely familiar. People you’d seen around a few times but never stopped to actually notice. Stiles was aware that they were putting on a show of sorts for his benefit. Or the show was about his reaction, he didn’t like to think about being watched by this many fanged folk. The numbers game was wasted because he was already aware of his mortality even if the fear had subsided to tight coil in his gut. They respected this woman, bowed to her even. Stiles didn’t want to see her angry if the two he’d seen, three but wasn’t going to fess up about Scott, were like living nightmares when they wolfed out.  
        She smiled serenely and hooked her arm outward offering her elbow for Stiles to take. He started to reach out reflexively before catching himself and pushing his arms firmly his side. The bloody picture of the girl flashing in his mind. Stiles wasn’t about to touch her regardless of the strange pull to do so. He remained rooted to his spot. She arched one dark eyebrow. That had to be a Hale thing.  
        It started as a low rumble and grew until it the growl echoed through him and had Stiles turning. He jumped. Derek was close to his side, closer than Stiles thought he’d been. Near enough that if Stiles’ had leaned back a fraction they’d been touching. This close and Derek was like a magnet. Stiles wanted to lean back, to break the space between them. It was God Damn mind wrecking. Being attracted to a potential murder to this severity was horrifying. His heart pounded away like a snare, beating out the frantic rhythm of his scrambled mind. Stiles’ confusion and agitation must have been palpable.  
        “Step back Derek, you’re scaring him.” Under the eight of her gaze Derek shrank two sizes, and stepped back. It was magic. “I’m Talia, I have yet to have the pleasure of meeting you Stiles. I heard from Laura that you were cute. That girl has never lied a day in her life by the looks of you,” she added, a picture of hospitality and grace. Taking it upon herself to move this party along she snaked her arm through Stiles and gave a tug. He surged forward with her surprising strengthening to be walking beside her. He gave an experimental wiggle in her grasp. No dice.  
        The house was exactly as he remembered seeing it. Clean yet lived in with bits and pieces of the its occupants’ things scattered around. Keys hanging by the door above shoes and enough pictures to fill a studio gave it a homey give. Heck, Stiles even noticed homework spread open and half finished on the granite island as they moved through the kitchen to a large wood dining table. The house radiated comfort and a voice in the back on his mind demanded that he stay forever. He buried the feeling under a pile of fear. Everyone thought Ted Bundy has been a pretty swell guy too.  
No one else followed them, the greeting party drifted off to do their own things but Stiles had a feel everyone was listening. He realized that Scott and Laura weren’t around them either. He snapped his head around, panic rising in the chest, Scott could not just be gone. Talia held onto his forearm and nodded toward the chair nearest him. Stiles figured it was meant to tell him to sit. Talia oozed warmth and comfort. Less intense when compared to the heat he felt around Derek but relaxing all the same.  
        “He’s okay. Laura and Derek will have taken him out back and when he shakes the last of Laura’s control they will explain to him the situation. Help him understand the change that he is going through a little better. Though I’m sure Isaac will be more useful when he gets here later.” The panic fizzled and died just as abruptly as it started. Stiles’ rational mind didn’t trust her, didn’t even want to listen. Her presence was calming even as he tried to fight against it. Stiles glared at where her hand was still on him. She eventually let go and slid into the seat next to him.  
        “Isaac is a werewolf...”  
        Talia smiled, the resemblance to Laura was easier to see in that smile, “Yes. An unfortunate circumstance with his dad prompted us to adopt him, if you will.”  
        “You didn’t kidnap him did you?”, scientists hadn’t had any luck with finding a cure for diarrhea of the mouth. But, it seemed plausible based on his own first experience in this house.  
        Her laugh was loud and boisterous, “No. Of course not. You made quite a spectacle of yourself when you rushed nobly save Cora and no one was really sure what to do. No one from the outside has seen as you have for a long time. So they brought you here for me to decide.”  
        “And you decided to threaten me and have Cora break my wrist?”, he accused, standing now and waving his bandaged wrist in the air so she could see, “This wasn’t exactly awesome for me!!” He laughed and it was humorless and bitter.  
        “That was a,” She paused flicking her eyes toward the ceiling. The house was dead quiet above her, “terrible decision. I asked everyone to leave and let you walk out the front door. Even if you had told who was going to believe you? It only helped us that nearly seventy of your peers had seen you at the bonfire where there was lots of alcohol.” Stiles ‘felt’ the honesty in her words, reassuring against his shock fried mind.  
        “Still doesn’t answer why she went all Xena on me.”, he announced disgruntled. He’d started to move around the room, walking the length from one wall to the other.  
        “Fear. My pack walks a fine line and Cora is the youngest. Doesn’t want her friends from school to find out.” Talia was being awfully forthright with her answers, Stiles was at a complete loss.  
        She folded her hands in front of her, long fingers braiding into each other and sat back patiently. This was not a women who needed to resort to violence, she had patience and time. Stiles bet she would sit there all night waiting for him to get to the point and not bat an eye. Its takes immense power to not use it. He was pacing, gesturing to himself and muttering nonsense. Stiles spun on his heels to face her.  
        “Why are you killing the girls?”, demanded Stiles.  
        “Laura already answered that. We aren’t.” She was so calm it was irritating.  
        “Who is?” inquired Stiles with more force than he’d meant but it was getting late and sleep was singing her song urged on by the ache in his legs and back from exerting himself running through the Preserve. Adrenaline only shielded a person for so long. Plus, being here, in the Hale house was pulling Stiles into a sense of security. A bee lured to a flower, if that flower happened to be an anglerfish.  
        “I would like to know the answer to that question too. Whoever is behind it is smart enough to not leave tracks. It’s turning the Hunters on my family quite quickly and you’ve seen what they can do.”  
        “Hunters? Wait.. are you talking about the arrows that Cora was shot with? And that there is another family in town that knows werewolves exist and is hunting them?”  
        “There was a truce before the first girl died. I tried to explain but some beliefs are steadfast.”, calmly she replied. Underneath that soothing voice she sounded tired like she had tried to explain the situation to stubborn five year olds. Some people are like that though refuse to listen to anything new or different.  
        Stiles fell silent. He wasn’t sure why she was volunteering all of this information so readily. They’d only just met but, she had been right if he said anything no one was going to give him the time of day. He felt comfortable in this space with the press of warmth around him and found himself drifting to Derek was around. If he was listening to this conversation through the walls. If his circle of his arms was as wonderful as it looked. Stiles slammed his face into his hands and groaned. It just wasn’t healthy to be that fixated on someone he’s known no more than a week. A person wasn’t really a person for that matter. Who still might kill him.  
        A ghost of a smile played across Talia’s lips. She had to be a mind reader because the the next thing out of her mouth was; “Ask me.”  
        “Are you going to give me a straight answer?”  
        "Are you going to ask me the right question?” She rebutted. Took Stiles a minute to realize she made a joke.  
        “Why...”, no that wasn’t it. Damn, he groaned loudly pulling the sound from his chest. He had no idea what he was going to ask or how to put what he was feeling into words. 'I have an unexplainable longing to molest your potentially criminal son' didn't have a nice ring to it, “If I went home, never saw any of you again, and pretended this never happened could I forget about it. Or if I moved to Alaska could I get away?”  
        Her laughter followed him out into the hallway.

        She declared it was time for everyone to go bed and sound erupted through the house. They had been still, eavesdropping. Superhuman bastards. Water started to run upstairs and footsteps marched across wood. Such normal, human sounds to come from a house full of critters.  
        Scott was waiting by the front door. He looked okay now that he wasn’t all dopey from whatever what been done to him. Another question for another day. Actually, Scott’s face creased into a wide grin as he muttered about owing Stiles an apology.  
        “I’m sorry I didn’t listen and tried to eat you,” the way he said it reminded Stiles of when they were eight years old and Scott stole his firetruck from the house. Ms. McCall had driven him straight back and ordered him to apologize. Just like then Stiles only laughed and wrapped his arms around his best friends shoulders. He was still breathing so no harm. Stiles knew this wasn’t a normal reaction, knew he should be freaking out. Scott relaxed into his embrace like jello and Stiles wasn’t sure when but the two of them had started to giggle, equal parts hysteria and relief. A little terror too.  
        Talia and Laura who, when they were standing side by side, looked like a clone of her mother were standing away from the door. Giving them space. Derek was closer almost to where he could reach in and pull them apart if he wanted a scowl set across his face. That guy just didn’t smile. Stiles eyeballed him from over Scott’s shoulder. Enticing as the frown might be he wanted to see the smile.  
        “If you don’t mind humoring a worried old woman and let Derek ride along with you as you drop Scott off and head home. I like to make sure my guests make it home safely.” Talia smiled the expression reaching her eyes. A picture of the concerned mother. From the way everyone listened to her unquestioning Stiles thought that might be the biggest lie of the night. Stiles nodded and followed Derek when he took the lead out into the night and to the Jeep.  
        When he turned the key and kicked the engine to life the little glowing green numbers on his dash made him cringe. 2:15 a.m. is probably one of Stiles least favorite times. At least the roads would be blessedly empty and the dark press of night was quiet.  
        The drive to Scott’s of eerily devoid of chatter. Scott and Stiles just exchanged confused glanced in his rearview mirror. It was easy to see Scott from where he sat in the middle hump of the back. Derek had slid into the passenger seat and refused to budge when Scott whined about it.  
        They dropped Scott off in utter silence each person staring out their own window. Stiles wasn’t about to break the silence with Derek until they’d pulled clear away from the house and there was no way Scott could hear even with his heightened sense.  
        Stiles was getting nervous. His hands were clammy making the steering wheel awkwardly moist. If they took a turn his palms ran along the leather and squeaked. He was starting to notice signs of strain in Derek the longer they were stuck, completely alone, together. This level of awkwardness hadn’t been there in the woods. Stiles chalked it up to adrenaline and that fact Derek had been careful to keep his distance.  
        But now they were theoretically stuck in his Jeep and it seemed too small. Derek could probably rip the door straight from the hinges if he wanted out though. You can’t really be trapped if you can punch through steel. Creek water eyes were blatantly not looking at him now, Derek’s presence was molasses filling up the jeep thick and rich. Stiles was going to choke on it.  
        “Silence is great and all but this is awkward...”  
        No reply, what a talker. Stiles pressed on, “Do you run around and howl at the moon regularly?”  
        “I’m not a beast. I’ve got control over it. Scott will too if he focuses and finds an anchor.”  
        “An anchor, like what?” Stiles gave his best dazzling smile. He was a champion of ‘Fake it Till You Make it’. Derek looked like he relaxes a notch, maybe not, but he could hope. Relaxed people don’t normally commit homicide.  
        “Something to focus on to keep the wolf at bay. Just because he shifts, and he doesn’t really have to do that, doesn’t mean you have to forget who you are.” His voice tapered off into the dark of the truck.  
        “Can it be anything?”  
        “An anchor needs to be strong. Really strong,” Derek had turned to face him in his seat. Back pressed against the gap between seat and window. Stiles was compelled to keep him talking as they turned down his street.  
        “What’s yours?” Oops. Derek’s face hardened. He’s thrown up that protective shield and a frown in a second.  
        “I’m not sure anymore.” He was being honest, at least he hadn’t shut him out completely.  
        “You just said it had to be strong. So important. How could you not be sure?” pried Stiles. What did Derek expect? He dangled that beautiful piece of information in from of him and know he really wanted to know.  
        “It’s --”  
“If you say its complicated I swear to god.”  
        Derek’s mouth shut into a tight line. He looked unsure, as nervous as Stiles felt. Good, let him be closed off and see where that got him. They were pulling into the driveway anyway. The guy wasn’t even going to answer and had a foot out the door before the engine died.  
        “I’m going to cir-”, Derek started but his frowned only deepened to stop the flow of works, “Go in inside.”  
        Stiles scrambled out of the Jeep his key chain catching on the handle making it so he had to stop and untangle the stupid plastic loop, “Just because you can rip out my throat with your teeth doesn’t mean you get to act like a dick.” He looked up expecting to see a scowl. Nothing. He’d been talking to empty air. The tingly warmth and comfort Stiles hadn’t known he was experiencing left in a woosh like someone opened a door and all the air was sucked inside. Panic, fear, and the simmering anger slammed down against his psyche.  
        Protected, it dawned on him as he went into his house and to his room. He’d been feeling protected in Derek’s presence like nothing was going to harm him or perhaps that someone was guarding him. The lyrics to Not While I’m Around bounced around his head and drew a laugh. Yeah, all he needed was a maniac with a razor. On second thought, he didn’t need that all. Fanged people, hunters killing said fanged people, and a mysterious third party that was running around killing girls; his plate was full. Thank you, no need for seconds.  
       Stiles carefully ignored the way that loneliness crept into the pit of his gut and breathed ice into him that night. He’d say he tossed and turned all night because of the bruises starting to form from Scott pushing him to the ground. Not murky creek water eyes and how it felt to be in his presence.

 

* * *

 

     

        He’d given up sleeping around six opting for a scalding shower. Nothing to see here, just a normal teenage boy. Stiles blew out a huff of air. If only. He’d still felt hollow, chilled afterwards and shrugged on a sweater to pull tight around him. There was a huge piece of this puzzle he was missing and it was eating him alive. If the Hales weren’t killing the girls like he’d thought, Stiles was keeping them on the suspect list, who was? Someone, or thing, who was smart enough to pit two factions against each other so that the heat wasn’t on them.  
        His Dad came in through the front door quietly the bags around his eyes purple and deep. They added another ten years to him. The Sheriff collapsed into the chair across from Stiles at the dinner table and ran the back of his hand along his forehead. His dad did that when he was fidgety, wiped at non-existent sweat.  
        "We found that girl. The camper. Torn to shreds just like the other one.”  
        Stiles felt a little green the image of her tattered stomach was fresh in his mind. He’d almost completely forgotten about her. He didn’t think there were any cops that were in with the Hales. Talia might have called and left an anonymous tip. It was more likely they left the girl scattered with all her pieces until the police’s search widened enough to find her.  
        " And...?” He wasn’t meeting his dad’s eyes, that man could sniff out the truth when it was being withheld. Not like the Sheriff would believe it anyway but it was best to look inconspicuous.  
        “An animal? She was torn apart,” The Sheriff made a gesture his hands that could have been him breaking spaghetti noodles in half. It wasn’t inaccurate. “I don’t even know what could do that to a person. A bear maybe if it was angry enough? They avoid campers though. Nothing that strong is in this part of California.” His dad was outter logging, just talking to hear thoughts said aloud and Stiles had always been a good soundboard. It was how they started to bond again after his mother had passed.  
        The Sheriff his head low between his shoulders and slumped, “Son, shouldn’t you be getting to school?” Always the parent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter 5 Preview:** Scott just rolled his eyes and chuckled, “It was candy! But, are we going to the Hale’s or not? Laura and Derek offered to help me learn how to control this. Well, Laura offered and Derek stood near the kitchen door listening to you and Talia. That dude is seriously creepy.”  
>  “He’s not that bad...” Stiles stressed the ‘a’ to make his point.  
> “He whined, _whined_ like a dog when Laura grabbed him by his shirt to keep him from following you.”  
>  “You were high with wolf fever, you probably hallucinated.”
> 
>  
> 
> **(I realize I completely chucked out last weeks preview, this is more true to form)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who's really at the top of the Beacon Hills food chain?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so nervous about posting this chapter. Take with a grain of salt because I feel that. even if it doesn't make complete sense, it's necessary for the plot.
> 
> OHGODI"MSORRY
> 
> As always, thank you to the lovely Breanna and strong Kevin for helping me!!
> 
> ***WARNING: PLEASE READ***  
> There is minor character death in this chapter!!!! And it's fairly descriptive!! If blood, projectiles, or death bother you please take caution!!  
> ***WARNING: PLEASE READ***

       The first half of his school day passed quickly. Math, bio and his TA period whizzed by until lunch. He was tense. Waiting for something to jump out, grab him, and pull him away to slaughter.  
The only relief coming in the form of Nacho day so the cafeteria ladies were busy dumping spoon fulls of warmed up meat by-product and melted cheese onto cheap tortilla chips. Of course there was always the option of pizza. It was technically a vegetable in the state of California now. Nutritious. Stiles loved nacho day because Freshman year he made it in good with the ladies and if he asked nicely they would pour massive amounts of cheese over the thick fries they served everyday. It really was his silver lining at the moment.  
       He got three orders knowing he’d eat two leaving one for Scott who wasn’t so lucky with the ladies. Sitting on the metal bench on the usual table he couldn’t have been more surprised if Lydia Martin, the most beautiful example of perfect in this school, herself sat down beside him. An acute stab of dislike flared inside him at the thought of her. That was... weird. Stiles pushed it aside to handle later. Priorities, and right now Isaac was lowering down to sit next to him looking at Stiles like he’d grown a third head. Maybe more of his internal struggle was showing on his face than he was aware of.  
       Isaac composed himself quickly, “What did you think of Talia. Something else, huh?”  
       “How do you know that I met her?”  
       “Because he was there last night. You were too busy making doe eyes at my brother to notice though.” Cora dropped herself into the seat across from Isaac much to Stiles distain. He scooted away and out of arm's reach. No way Stiles was going to be close enough for her to reach out and grab him.  
       “I was not! Why would you even?”, sputtered with embarrassment. He was just making sure Derek wasn’t going to eat him. Ya know, the growling and all that.  
       Isaac was grinning to himself and Cora looked pleased. Stiles wanted to wipe that look of her face. They were not buddy buddy and Stiles wasn’t planning on being her friend any time soon. Was it so hard to get one lunch period free of that particular brand of crazy?  
       “Isaac does that mean you are a...? I know Talia said but.” Stiles let his voice trail off. Isaac grinned up at him, his teeth subtly pointy. The features were gone as quickly leaving Stiles to wonder if he was being hyper aware. His brain was still struggling to acknowledge this new version of reality. And the baggage seemed to keep piling on.  
       Where the hell was Scott? Late as always. Stiles craned his neck around the cafeteria, his two companions starting up a conversation about how stupid Derek looked when he growled at his mother. Stiles didn’t think it was funny. Nothing about that at been funny. Scott finally appeared through the doors and their eyes caught immediately. Scott pushed through the crowd with Allison in tow who was all smiles as always.  
       “Dude, I try to eat you just a little bit and you replace me with these two? Bad form, man.”  
       “Spare me! I don’t know where they came from but suddenly they’ve decided they like the grass right next to me.” Stiles pushed the third bowl of cheese fries across the table at Scott. He fist pumped into the air excitedly.  
       “You and Scott feel like pack so we want to be around you,” interjected Isaac. Cora shot him a squinted look. Stiles knew immediately they were hiding something, felt it like a trigger in his gut, and Isaac was cutting close to the truth. Scott didn’t seem to care only nodding and turning his attention to Allison. She was animatedly reliving something that happened in drama.  
       “Scott I understand, he’s one of you but how can I feel like... that? I’m not like that.”, His eyes zapped to Allison still engrossed her in story. Stiles was going to get information out of one them other people be damned. Isaac was pliable, soft and Stiles was banking on him breaking first. Cora jumped onto his track of thought like a champion by kicking Isaac’s shin hard enough he flinched and reached under the table to rub at his leg.  
       “You were at our house last night with our mother. A little transfer is bound to happen.” Excellent recovery. Ten points to Hale House. Watch out Slytherin, but Stiles was tired of being lied to.  
       “Transfer. I don’t buy that for a minute. What does that even mean?”  
       “How about you come to the house after school and chat?” Cora asked sweetly, if her smile was meant to be inviting it failed miserably. She batted her eyes innocently. Might as well have been asking him over to do homework.  
       “And get eaten? I think I’ll pass.”  
       “God, you’re stupid. You don’t know half of what’s going on so forgive us for trying to educate you. It’s kind of an all or nothing situation. Sense nothing is off the table for you the only option left is all.”  
       “The Hales are awesome anyway. Laura is really funny once you get to know her”, added Isaac. He looked one hundred percent behind Cora on this. His face eager and happy. Talia did say they had ‘adopted’ him from a bad situation. Could saved have been a better word?  
       Stiles just shook his head wryly and shoved a few fries into his mouth. He slapped at Scott’s arm playfully until they were hitting each other and laughing from across the table. For a few minutes he was going to pretend that nothing weird was happening in his life. Isaac and Cora seemed to get the message and left followed shortly by Allison who insisted she needed to go to the library and catch Lydia before class.  
       “Are we going to the Hale’s later?” Scott asked spooning cheese out of the bottom of the styrofoam bowl with his finger.  
       “You were listening!?”  
       “Well, yeah! This hearing is awesome! I can listen to a bunch of different things at once.”  
       “That is completely unfair! What if I was trying to keep that a secret.”  
       “Stiles, you haven’t been able to keep a secret from me since fourth grade. Remember you stole my gummy worms and felt so bad you called your dad and begged until he brought you more to give to me. You insisted he use lights and sirens.”  
       “I was nine and it was urgent!!”  
Scott just rolled his eyes and chuckled, “It was candy! But, are we going to the Hale’s or not? Laura and Derek offered to help me learn how to control this. Well, Laura offered and Derek stood near the kitchen door listening to you and Talia. That dude is seriously creepy.”  
       “He’s not that bad...” Stiles stressed the ‘a’ to make his point. Why was he defending him anyway?  
       “He whined, whined like a dog when Laura grabbed him by his shirt to keep him from following you.”  
       “You were high with wolf fever, you probably hallucinated.”  
       “No man. He was freaking out that he couldn’t be in that room with you. Pacing, listening in to the conversation even though it wasn’t hard to hear, being fidgety. That is like on the first page of Freaky Stalker 101. I don’t like him.”  
       “If he is so weird why do you want to go back?!” Whiplash probably felt better than this.  
       “Because of Allison. I can’t control it very well and I don’t want her to know or for her to get hurt.”  
       “I don’t think it’s going to be that simple Scott.”  
       “Neither do I, but I don’t want you to get hurt either. I know that unless you’ve satisfied your curiosity, you’re just going to go looking for answers and, if you haven’t noticed, two people have already died alone in the woods.”  
       “Alright, we’ll go. We ask questions and you get your sensei on.”  
       Scott nodded in agreement and went to dump their bowls into a trashcat. The last three classes went by quickly. Only slowing down long enough for Stiles to endure Harris’ blind hatred for him. The world could be ending and Lucifer himself would rise from the pit to make everyone stop long enough to make Stiles go to Physics. Scott sat beside him and doodled ugly stick figures of Harris when his back was turned. Good times.  
       By the time the final bell rang releasing them from class, Stiles had firmly decided that no, he was not going to go “hang out” with the Hales. He was already up to his elbows in insanity. There was no reason to purposefully drown himself. Scott only pouted a little bit when he told him as they walked to their lockers. The flow of students normalizing in the background.  
       “You already said we should go! Don’t like we should just go see what they have to say?”  
       “Talia told me everything I wanted to know last night,” it was a lie if Stiles ever told one.  
       “Yeah, okay, sure and normally I would agree with you, but-”  
       “But? Scott! You said yourself they were spooky.”  
       “I said Derek was creepy. The rest of them seemed okay. What if I lose control and freak out on Allison?” Scott’s voice rose with a hint of panic. Damn it he had a good point, if another body show’d up ripped to shreds, he didn’t want it to be Scott who put it there.  
       “Oh come now, Stiles, Scotty boy just wants to learn. It’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.” Laura stepped out of thin air and threw her arms around Scott’s shoulders. She squeezed him tightly and gave her best shit-eating grin. The fact that nearly six feet of beautiful lace dress and leather jacket got into the school campus shouldn’t surprise him. She probably just batted her eyes at Gerald the Rent-a-Cop and he ran to open the door for her.  
       Scott tried to wiggle away and her manicured hand softened to let him scoot away. Free, Scott turned and, no shit, high fived her with a smile.  
       “I was just telling Stiles that we needed to take Cora up on her offer!” Could he sound more excited. Stiles was leery to be so enthused about her. He’d only met her twice one of those times fanged out and he’d missed the Scott/Laura/Derek bonding festivities.  
       She laughed then, deep and throaty, and Stiles reluctantly felt himself slip into the sound, “I told her that wouldn’t work. Not after she got pissy and broke his wrist, I’m sorry about that by the way. We’ll pay for the bill if you want, though your dad being the Sheriff I think covers it.” spoke Laura genuinely. No malice or ill intent just the calm confidence he’d seen in Talia.  
       “No, it’s fine.” Stiles huffed staring at the little black specks of the tile’s floor and wiggling his fingers sticking out the lime green cast. She didn’t bat an eye reaching out grab the boys by their wrists and pull them toward the exit. Scott shrugged and gave him a look that plainly read ‘Look she isn’t bad at all.’  
       Stepping outside Stiles shielded his eyes against the glaring afternoon sun thankful when Laura dropped their wrists and started to climb into her cherry red Mustang.  
       “Get in, losers.” She laughed at her own joke while Scott eagerly jumped into the tiny back seat of the car like it was Christmas. She wouldn’t be able to needle her way into Stiles with pop culture reference so easily Stiles assured himself He didn’t want to like Laura, really, he didn’t want to like any of the Hales, but he did. Standing on the curb Stiles watched Laura joke with Scott and thought, for just a second, that it fit.  
       “ This in the middle of the day? Not very subtle.” He was going to be childish and test her.  
       “Derek’s Charger next time? Much more subtle.” She deadpanned in return. Stiles sat down gingerly as Laura pulled away from the curb the purr of the engine remarkably quiet. Sitting in the car beside Laura and Scott listening to them joke around, occasionally breaking his silence to add something, Stiles felt more comfortable than he had in days.  
       It was peacefully normal to be roaring, Laura believed that if you were going under fifty five you might as well be stopped, through the background of Beacon Hills with these two. Scott managed to break him of his silence by insisting Stiles reenact how he tried to jump from the roof of Scott’s house onto a trampoline and into a pool.  
       They rounded the corner up onto the dirt road that led to the Hale House and fell into amicable silence. Trees folded behind them obscuring the path in front and shadowing the road behind them. It made sense that the Hales would build their home so far back into the woods. No one was going to wonder this far back here to investigate howling.  
       “Does it make it easier to be separated like this?” Stiles asked into the hush of the car.  
       "Yes and no. We try very hard to have normal lives. Mom insisted we went to public school and have as many normal human experiences as possible. There are some packs that never leave their compound, I guess it breeds a lot of fear and distrust to pull away like that.”  
       “Wouldn’t it be safer though? The Hunters walk around town to. Couldn’t they follow you back here?”  
Laura nodded slowly, her eyes drifting to look at Stiles from the side, “Yes, there is always the possibility but we take measures against it and the Hunters here, the Argent’s, have a treaty without Alpha and strict code.”  
       “Hey! That is Allison’s last name.”  
       Laura leveled Scott with a look in her rearview mirror, “I know.”  
Stiles waited one tense beat before starting up his line of questioning again, “What about now that people are dying? Talia said that the hunters were blaming you guys.”  
       Laura tsked, the soft sound of tongue against teeth, “That is true. We woke up to an arrow in our door this morning. A warning that they would take action soon.” She said it so calmly that Stiles might not have known she was talking about a threat.  
       “What are they going to do?” Scott questioned leaning forward so his head was between the few front seats.  
       “I don’t know. My mother and our emissary have been gone most the day in talks with them. There is a divide amongst the Hunters too, one half wants to give us a chance to prove we aren’t killers. The other is already sharpening their pitchforks.”  
       The car wound into the wide curve of the drive way, parking in front of a very middle america garage. Derek was propped up against one side. He stiffened when the trio clamoured out of the car and made their way over to him. Stiles felt like a vice that had been strapped tight over his lungs was loosening the closer he got. Scowl not deterring the feeling like wrapping himself in a blanket fresh from dryer that followed stepping into the circle of Derek’s presence. Stiles folded his arms over his chest and didn’t meet any eyes. This was embarrassingly not okay.  
       Laura’s looked from him to Derek her face splitting into a grin to rival and Jack’o’latern. She was laughing at a joke Stiles didn’t get and it bothered him. A lot. Not knowing something in general just bothered him. Stiles focused on the noise of people moving around the house and the trickle of voices from around the back.  
       “Der, take the kiddies and show them some tricks. They aren’t too old yet.” Great, dog jokes.

 

* * *

 

     

        “You need to focus. You’re too worried about everything else. Be here, now.” Sage words coming from a guy who looked ready to strangle someone. Derek was standing shirtless, no Stiles was not ogling, a few yards away from Scott looking down him with disapproval. Scowl firmly set in place. That sour expression definitely wasn’t attractive in a devil may care sort of way, not coupled with the etched planes of his body. Nope. Stiles flopped back into the grass watching the lazy clouds float by and listening to Scott whine.  
       “We’ve been at this for hours I need to catch my breath.” panted Scott. He was sitting on his ass with his arms stretch out behind him, holding him up. The two of them had started practicing immediately after arriving at the Hale house after school. Trying to teach Scott control of his wolf was more difficult than Stiles had guessed.. With that and Scott’s stubbornness they weren’t getting anywhere. What had started as a lesson in control disintegrated into full on sparring. Mostly it was Derek throwing Scott like a rag doll onto the ground until he had enough and Isaac took his place. Isaac was currently sitting against to a tree nearby closer to the action than Stiles. Derek had deemed that he needed to be at least fifty feet away which was ridiculous. He was human not stupid. Stiles wasn’t going to freak out and attract Scott’s attention when he was all wolfed out. He’d already done that anyway.  
       The four of them were on the preserve tucked away in a small clearing that was surrounded by dense trees. The trees narrowed enough to see through to the right for a few yards before opening up to a wide open field. It’s grass blazed golden in the falling California sun making Stiles squint to see across it.  
       “Where is Laura? I like her more. She doesn’t hit me as hard.” Derek scoffed and pulled Scott to his feet but there might have been a tiny smile there. It was apparent he loved his family despite the statuesque attitude. That, and he’d fondly patted Isaac on the pack and squeezed Cora around the shoulders when he thought Scott and Stiles weren’t looking before leaving to come practice here. Seeing that Derek wasn’t stone cold had blossomed warmth in his chest where it lingered. Whirring contentedly know that he was watching Derek teach Scott.  
       Stiles didn’t think Scott had noticed though he’d was too wrapped up in watching Peter putz around a fenced off garden in the Hales’ back yard. He looked exactly like he had the dream so Stiles recognized him immediately as he kneeled next to Talia poking at purple flowers with heavily gloved hands. Talia looked up to greet them in her own time remarking that the plants were a lesson for another day. She gracefully moved beside her daughter and the two disappeared into the house with hushed whispers. Before long there was the sound of tires on gravel.  
       “She’ll be here soon. Don’t be a baby, you’ll heal.”  
       “It still hurts!”, but Scott was already crouched down and ready for another round. Love was the mighty motivator after all.  
       Scott lunged, a blurred smudge to Stiles’ eyes, and attempted to wrap his arms around Derek’s waist. The man truck hoisted Scott up and over his shoulders so that he fell to the ground with a firm thump.  
       “I’m always going to throw you. Find a way to defend yourself that doesn’t mean charging right at it something twice your size and skill level.”  
       “What good is being a werewolf if I can’t move you!”  
       Derek rolled his eyes so hard Stiles thought they might pop right out. His lips opened to say something, but jerked his head to the thin barrier of trees. Isaac and Scott followed suit brought to attention by something Stiles could neither see or hear.  
       A figure stepped out from the other side of the field into the falling sunshine. Slim even from distance her hair whipped up in the wind. Laura. She wrestled her hair into a pony and was walking across the field slow and with leisure. She gave a wave and said something that made Isaac cackle. Damn wolves and that hearing, Stiles doubted he even had to strain to catch it.  
       They were watching Laura when she stopped. Her body jerked once and she stumbled forward. Isaac was running then full bore into the open field without thought. He howled at something Stiles couldn’t see and it ripped through his core. Laura’s body jerked again and she tumbled to one knee still too distant for Stiles to make anything out. In the confusion Scott and Derek were blurs of speed barreling into the harsh light of the sunset. Everything he saw was stark against the blinding light. It moved so quickly that his line of sight narrowed to watch the backs of three running men and the slumped body that wavered with the wind. There was no way he was going to keep up as he started sprint, trailing behind them slowly  
       Isaac was sliding in next to Laura as another arrow, he could see them now jutting long and smooth out of her back, shot across the field and sunk into her back spurting blood like rain onto the dried brown field. She cried out into the air and fell into Isaac’s outstretched arms. More arrows starting to sink into the ground around where Isaac was clutching Laura. Her eyes were closed and unmoving. How had they not known? Stiles looked wildly around the field trying to find where the shots were being fired from  
       Derek was next to get in front of him suddenly bellowing out commands, “Isaac grab her! We need to get back to the trees!” As another arrow sank into the ground dangerously close to Stiles feet. Derek looked wildly into the tree line his eyes alight with blue fire. Realizing that they’d run right into the open, stupid and panic they’d moved directly into the line of fire. Derek hauled Isaac, Laura still motionless and awkward in his arms, to his feet and dragged him back toward the woods.  
       No one was moving besides Derek for a moment too afraid and shocked to run. Stiles heard the thump of something sinking into the ground near it, then another. Shit. He ran. Screamed for Scott as he turned tail and booked it. If his best friend replied he couldn’t hear it from the pounding of his own heart in his ears.  
       Isaac was slower with Laura in his arms but reached the woods before Stiles. Isaac turned back his mouth opened in a silent scream. What was he doing?  
       Something hard hit against his thigh and Stiles stumbled against the shock. Lunging forward to run again his leg collapsed completely. Balance completely gone Stiles fell face first into the ground. His chest slammed into dirt and the unforgiving grass has he fell. It stabbed angrily at his bare arms as he struggled to stand. Stiles tried to use his hands to push back onto his knees only to crumble back to the ground. His broken wrist wailed in protest as he put too much weight on it. His thigh stung and Stiles craned back to see. Seeing the arrow sticking erect out of his thigh brought the pain. Seering hot and spittling.  
       With enough adrenaline pumping through his veins to cool the pain Stiles ended up half crawling half dragging himself before strong hands were lifting him into the air. He struggled arms and legs lashing out furiously. His captor had his nose pressed against the curve of Stiles’ neck as he propelled the two of them into the dark shadowy safety of the trees.  
       Stiles felt himself being pushed, face first into the cool loves of the floor with the man pushing into his back. Thick, dark forearms pressed against the ground on either side of his shoulders. Derek dug his nose back into the crease of Stiles’ neck while one hand grabbed firmly at the lower part of Stiles’ thigh just under the arrow.  
       “Hold still!”  
       Stiles stilled immediately froze, warmth lapping at the terror around his heart. It was dim but underneath the fear was a beaconing safety mixed with a fear that he didn’t recognize. To faint to be his own he turn his head in the dirt to stare back at Derek, Derek snuffled his way down the center column of Stiles back until he face to face with the arrow. Pressing feather light touches were it sunk into his flesh. Blood, oozing out slowly, staining Derek’s finger tips.  
       “Derek, Laura!! Help me.. oh god,” Isaac’s whimpering turned into nonsense that pulled Derek away from Stiles. He was muttering about nothing holding Laura as tight to his chest as he could. Her breath rattled as her chest stuttered to pull in air.  
       Black inky stains crept up the tanned column of her neck and twisted around her arms. She struggled to turn her head and open her mouth. Dark blood dripped from her mouth as she gaped at Derek. It was a terrible comparison but Stiles could only think of fish out of water. That inability to breath when air was all around you.  
       Derek was off him then and kneeling next to Laura. With the weight of his back Stiles turned his body in their direction. Isaac was devastated his face shattering and it made him look much young. The sobbing face of a child next to the firm lines of Derek’s face. He reached to clasp at Laura’s neck. She offered a weak, choked smile her body shaking now as she fought to hold on. Isaac’s grip only tightened dropping his head to rest on her shoulder, hiding the tears from the world.  
       Derek was dazed with shock and lost, it was noticeable in the awkward way he pulled the two forward into his broad chest so that Laura’s lifeless head was resting under his chin. His fingers lacing around Isaac’s back. The warmth that had been soothing away his pain was receding leaving a soiled path in it’s wake. It grew into something large that smothering Stiles in desperation and hopelessness.       Choking in his throat until Stiles’ felt moisture on his cheeks.  
       Stiles hated them. Hating the hunters in that moment so extremely that he felt bile rise into his mouth. It was unfathomable how much fear, fear on every side of this, had destroyed another person. He jerked his head away from the trio to find Scott standing near looking uncomfortable and horrified. He was crying too and Stiles couldn’t place the emotions flickering across his friend’s face. He wasn’t about to call him on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Six Preview: They were getting restless now, the pain ebbing into anger and cawing for revenge. The shift from one emotion to other swept through the room on black wings, tainting the girl laid bare in front of them.  
> “Sister, we need to track them down. Remind them of our strength.” Peter approached the table and rested himself against it with the palms of his hands.  
> “No,” Talia's voice was soft, tired.  
> “If we don’t they will know we are weak. What will stop them from attacking us outright?! They've already proven that they don’t need the cover of darkness.” Peter pressed his argument sounding a little rehearsed for Stiles' taste.
> 
>  
> 
> Come say hi to me on my [tumblr!](http://behindthesaltline.tumblr.com/)


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